


A Bold Guess Rewrite NC17

by bornof_sorrow (wintersfire)



Category: J2 AU - Fandom, Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-19
Updated: 2012-09-19
Packaged: 2017-11-16 04:06:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 28,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/535303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wintersfire/pseuds/bornof_sorrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>
  <a href="http://bornof-sorrow.livejournal.com/76806.html">here</a>
</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> [here](http://bornof-sorrow.livejournal.com/76806.html)

Title Notes: [here](http://bornof-sorrow.livejournal.com/76806.html)

Bold Guess (Redux) Part One

Jensen crossed the street and narrowly missed being hit by a bus as a crowd of students filled the pavement and prevented him stepping out of the way of the traffic. He pushed through and didn't care if he stepped on toes, though his momma would have had plenty to say if she hadn't been four thousand miles and some change away.

The sun was shining through the glass panel of the Foundation building door, showing finger smudges, as he shoved it open and ran up the wide stone steps. This used to be a convent, after that a boarding school, then a war-time hospital and, later, student accommodation. Now it was too old-fashioned for students to pay good fees to live in, and it had been turned over to lecturers and researchers like him. It was quirky and either too hot or too chilly, but the stone casings and leaded windows had their own charm: as long as the I.T worked, (which it generally did), he was good.  
  
His cubby- hole office had a great view of the landscaped grounds, and the trees were a copper and gold Monet in the sharp mid-morning sunlight. He loved England in the fall – sorry, autumn – but he wasn't exactly looking forward to another winter of rain, rain and oh, yeah, rain. He promised himself some Mediterranean sunshine again this Christmas: he needed his fix of heat, particularly after a busy semester. He threw his bag down and flipped on his heater and the dry burn of dust started to permeate the room.  
  
He shouted to Tom in the next office along and went out into the corridor to the “kitchen” where the tea and coffee things were. He and Tom had bought the coffee maker and they hoarded their Illy because professors? They liked to steal good coffee.  
  
Tom trailed after Jensen and stood in the doorway, tilting his large frame into the narrow space. “Jensen, man, I gotta tell you, but you ain't gonna like it...”  
  
Jensen carried on rinsing the jug and filling the machine as he turned to Tom.  
  
“Like what man? You ate all the Jaffa Cakes again?” Tom was silent and this time Jensen set the pot on its plate and wiped his hands on the dishcloth. He leaned his ass against the counter and looked at Tom. Tom looked as uncomfortable as hell.  
  
“Spill it.” It could only be work, because his family was fine and there was no-one else to worry about so...  
  
“Padalecki. He's starting here. Next week, actually,” Tom said.  
  
Jensen gaped at Tom.   
  
“What do you mean?” he asked stupidly. Tom squirmed slightly under Jensen’s look.  
  
“I mean Jared Padalecki, the one who...y’know...he’s going to be working here. From next week.  With us.” Tom trailed off with a hand gesture which pretty much said “Huh. What can you do?”  
  
Jensen felt heat sweep through him. Then he turned and swiped an innocent mug to an untimely death in the full sink. “Fuck, that lying, conniving bastard.”  
  
~~~  
  
Three hours and two lectures later Jensen was grading his way through a pile of assignments, which weren't due, but he couldn't concentrate on anything else. The knocking at his door grew louder as whoever it was demonstrated their impatience.  
  
“Come in.” Jensen pasted a smile on his face and turned to the door, hoping it was one of his students who could embroil him in discussion until it was time to hunt down Tom and maybe some food. The slim, pretty girl cocked an eyebrow at him and he gestured her inside.  
  
“Hi Lauren, what can I do for you?”  
  
“Well, now, there's an interesting offer Dr Ackles, let me get back to you on that one.” She laughed and collapsed gracefully into the beat up armchair which had come with the office and looked like it was older than both of them put together. Jensen smiled. Lauren was starting her Masters and Jensen had been her Personal Tutor since she was a freshman.  
  
“No play unless you've switched teams, Miss Cohen, and, come to think of it, me too. What's up? You're not being hassled again?”  
  
“No, nothing like that.” Her face clouded for a moment then broke into a knowing smile. “I've told you over and over, those bitches stay away from me now.”  
  
“Glad to hear it. What do you need?”  
  
She watched him for a moment, and pushed out her foot to kick him gently in the shin. “You're old but still kinda cute so I'm passing on some gossip. You've entered for the Lever Hulme prize, right?”  
  
Jensen nodded. “Hey, I'm not that old, and by the way, extremely cute is the phrase you are looking for.” Lauren's shoulders loosened slightly “Good. I wondered...”   
  
Jensen leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. “Wondered what Lauren? We've talked about this; you know what the boss is expecting for this department. Why wouldn't I?”  
  
She held up her hands in a “don't shoot the messenger” way and Jensen felt his heart skip a beat. Shit, what now?  
  
“Well, that guy, the one that stole your research? Pashalenki?  
  
“Padalecki.” Lauren already knew exactly who Padalecki was but it was sort of sweet that she pretended, for his sake, that he was unknown.  
  
“Right. Him. He's entered too.”  
  
Jensen's momma would have swatted his ass, because this time he cursed in front of a lady.  
  
~~~  
  
17th September 2010  
  
Jensen looked up at the Campus Policeman who stood in his doorway. “Dr Ackles?” From the forced patience of his look Jensen gathered he'd called his name more than once.  
  
“Hi Steve, what's up?”  
  
“It's past nine. You're the only one here. You gonna be long or can I lock up?”  
  
Jensen stretched his back and pulled through both his arms to release the tension across his neck and shoulders. He looked at his three screens and decided he probably needed a break. “Give me ten Steve, and I'll be out of your hair. “  
  
The sound of Steve's footsteps faded into the empty silence of the building. Jensen looked at the work on his screens. He saved the algorithms he was working on and wrapped it up with Mike, whose work was partially related to his own. They had some joint publications in Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, but more recently they tended to publish their theoretical work individually.  
  
 **IRN MAN:**  Thanks Mike. Looks good. Where're you publishing?  
  
 **LXLTHR:**   _Nature_  then after peer review should get PNAS.  
  
 **IRN MAN:**  Okay. Good luck with it.  
  
 **LXLTHR:**  Yeah. Let me know when your next one's up. Later.  
  
 **IRN MAN:**  Later.  
  
Jensen needed a drink. He loved his work but the first semester was hectic what with new students, classes and schedules.  
  
He grabbed his jacket, turned off the lights and locked his door. The motion sensor lights flickered on and he smiled grimly. During the day the wood- paneled corridors, occasional stained glass windows and ever-present polished floors were collegiate and charming but at night? Well, this always gave him the creeps. It was easy to imagine cowled and veiled nuns gliding along here or convalescing soldiers dying from their terrible war wounds. He yawned, and then he laughed under his breath. He couldn't even be bothered to give himself the creeps properly.  
  
Outside the stars were like spilt glitter in the cloudless sky and he filled his lungs with the clear air. The short walk to The Vaults was cold but thankfully dry, and Jensen pulled his neck into his jacket and shoved his hands into his pockets as he approached the pub. He reached for the door but before he could open it a man coming the other way careened into him. He just about lost his balance and the guy snatched his arm and steadied him. Jensen wasn't a small man but this guy was taller and broader. He loomed over Jensen but he wasn't easy to see in the dark gloom between street lights and the meager pink- tinged spill from the red velour draped windows of the pub.

“Excuse me.”

The voice made Jensen's dick throb. All at once, in the darkness of the evening, surrounded with the smell of damp earth and wet leaves, Jensen glimpsed home. The Texan burr in the voice made his belly curl languorously and his breath want to sigh from his mouth in pleasure. Jensen longed to bask in that warmth and let the heat sink into him. He wanted to press closer to the body against him.  
  
He stiffened and pulled his arm away, flustered. What the fuck? He was goddamn near to molesting a stranger in the street. He turned into the door of the pub and didn't allow himself to look back, although his senses were still filled with the fresh laundry and clean skin scent of the guy, the tingle in his arm where he'd been gripped, and the bump-bump of his flustered heartbeat. Man, he definitely needed to loosen up, kick back a little.  
  
Inside The Vaults, Tom was tucked in by the huge brick nook of the fire with Chris Kane and a gang of international students, obviously three or four pints into their evening. He sank onto the bench alongside them and Chris shoved a pint towards him.  
  
“Jensen.” He nodded and Jensen returned the greeting. Chris was a man of few words but he made them count. “You okay?”   
  
Jensen drank and gave himself a moment. Although Chris was more Tom's friend they'd spent enough time together for Jensen to know how perceptive the guy was. “Tired. Working too much. Same old.”   
  
Chris smiled, all teeth and bright eyes. Jensen rolled his eyes and said, only a beat behind Chris. “You need to get laid, Iron Man.”  
  
They both laughed and Jensen flipped him the bird and tossed his beer mat at Tom who was deep in conversation with a student to his right. Tom gestured back without looking at him and Jensen sighed dramatically. Chris laughed again.  
  
“All work and no play Jensen. Come on man, all that young flesh, you're only human.” Jensen knew Chris was no player – well, mostly - so he let him tease. “I get action.” Jensen tried to hold Chris's dark blue gaze but he could feel the smile cracking his face.  
  
“Sure you do Doc, sure you do.”  
  
~~~  
  
Five pints later Jensen, Tom and Chris hit a club in town. As they jostled each other out of the cab, Jensen groaned.  
  
“Man, isn't this where the freshmen end their three-legged race? It'll be full of kids.” Jensen looked at Chris and Tom with a grimace on his face.  
  
Tom clapped him on the back and shoved him up the steps. “Not this week, Jense, I'm meeting Jamie. Promise it's mostly grown-ups.” Chris made a face. “The girls better be hot Tom, s'all I'm sayin'.”  
  
Jensen wasn't convinced but he let himself be pushed inside anyway and once there the classic rock, the bare-board floors and the gig posters pasted one atop the other as décor, convinced him the atmosphere was laid back, dressed down and relaxed. Jensen and Tom nodded to a few faces from the university in a crowd at the bar, but made their way to a dark booth near to what passed for a dance floor. A guy and a girl were making out on it and Jensen supposed what they were doing, in between the groups of Friday night club- goers, could technically count as dancing.  
  
Chris went to the bar and Jensen and Tom chatted about work until he came back, deposited the five- pint pitcher of Hoegaarden, poured himself one and then gave them the thumbs up and moved off.  
  
Jensen grimaced at Chris's retreating back but said to Tom “Dude, that's seriously strong. You know what happened last time we had Hoegaarden? We nearly got matching tattoos.”  
  
Tom took a few swallows of his pint and smiled broadly at Jensen. “Well, we lived to tell the tale. You know Chris and his macho beer.” They both watched Chris go over to a group of girls at the bar and start talking. The girls responded with smiles and laughter and Jensen shook his head at Tom. “He makes it look so easy.”  
  
Tom snorted, “Yeah? And you don't? Jensen we both know you only have to bat those eyelashes and the guys come running.” Jensen flicked beer at him and picked up the snack menu.  
  
Tom's girlfriend Jamie arrived before they'd finished their burgers and Tom got them a new pitcher. After another hour or so, Jensen waved vaguely towards the bar. “Back in a few, guys.” He was half way there when he decided; feeling the buzz of the beers, that now would be a good time to visit the bathroom. He wove between the crowded bodies on the dance floor and dipped into the gloomy corridor leading to the bathrooms. One of the overhead lights was out and Jensen steadied himself against the painted brick of the wall before he focused on the right door and pushed through.  
  
When he came out there was a tall guy in the dark passageway, clearly waiting to use the single bathroom, and Jensen waved his hand at the bathroom door and said “Sorry.” The guy, who was only partly visible in the dim light replied. “No problem.”  
  
Jensen jerked his head up as the guy went to go past him and it was the same voice, the same low baritone from earlier in the evening. Without thinking, Jensen grabbed the guy’s bicep and he stopped, presumably eyeing up Jensen. The muscle under his hand, beneath the layers of clothing, felt like steel. Jensen's mouth watered. The guy spoke again. “Want something?”   
  
This time the voice made Jensen think of sex and skin. Jensen swallowed and answered “Yeah.”  
  
Not the world's slickest line but it did the job, and that was currently all that Jensen cared about. The guy dragged him back a step or two and pulled him in to kiss him. That was unexpected, but hey, no argument from Jensen. He slid his arms under the guy's jacket. His waist was hard and narrow, his jeans rested against his hip bones and Jensen could feel a big belt buckle and hard bulge which made him groan. The guy slanted his mouth across Jensen's and pressed inside. His tongue ranged around his mouth, scraped against his palate, across the slick softness of his tongue and then sucked it into his mouth.   
  
He felt the tug on his tongue down to his balls, which twitched in response.  _God, yes._  The alcohol haze, the darkness and the unexpected action made Jensen fluid and happy. The kiss was demanding, like the man needed to taste all of Jensen at once, and that thought made Jensen's excitement hitch. He pressed his own rigid dick into the guy’s thigh and squeezed his legs until they slipped around the guy's leg and, fuck, that was good.  
  
Jensen took in deep breaths as his heart thumped in his chest, mixed with the distant bass of the music and wrapped him in a world of fuck it and NOW, NOW, NOW. He loved it when it was like this; urgent, unexpected and searing hot, when his thinking brain finally turned off and let the rest of him make its decisions.  
  
Jensen pushed his hands under cloth to reach the guy's skin and skimmed his hands up and down satin covered ridges of muscle and bone all the way up to tiny, hard, pinpoint nipples. He could hear himself making approving noises and the guy laughed against his neck, sending tremors of breath across his skin. “Like that?”   
  
By way of an answer Jensen scraped a nail across one nipple. He didn't need any words when he could touch. Those steel arms wrapped around him, one across his back maneuvering him into place, head tipped back and mouth open to taste, and the other hand went into his back pocket and pulled Jensen harder onto his thigh. The sensation of that solid thigh, the whole leg rooted against the floor, hard and steady against Jensen's riding dick was fucking amazing. Jensen shoved his hips into it, and felt the metal jut of his zipper twist up - pressure to the edge of pain, a hard seam of intensity against his aching cock. The guy was tasting his mouth again, voracious and wanting, and Jensen could hardly breathe, didn't really care if he couldn't, because what a fucking way to go.  
  
The guy pulled back from his mouth and bit on his bottom lip, sliding his tongue against the flesh. “C'mon. Go for it. Come for me.”   
  
That voice, fuck. Man, he loved the tone of command wrapped up in a plea, like all the guy needed to make his day was to see Jensen lose it. See him shivering and shaking with pleasure and know he'd caused it. Jensen's balls were heavy and his gut was clenching, all his muscles going stiff in his abdomen and back as he pitched and jerked against that thigh. His arms ached so tight where his fists wound into the soft fabric of the guy's t-shirt and his legs needed the support of the thigh to stay upright. It felt so good.  
  
His head was wedged under the other man's jaw where he could drag in his own breath again and again because he didn't want to move, didn't want to shift the tension in his body because it was winding tighter and tighter, perfect and sharp over the hazy glow of his buzz and the throb of the music.   
  
The guy shifted and lifted him, hips, dick and all, jerked him against his body and, Christ that was hot: being slotted into place, being used without hesitation because the guy knew they were both on the same page. Every part of Jensen's tired, drunken brain and body was on board with letting go and he did just that: Jensen came in shuddering hitches of pleasure like shocks and flashes of light, each moment separate and vivid like snapshots against a light screen.  
  
Before he was done, the guy turned him, pushed him face against the wall and pressed his own hard cock into Jensen's ass, both legs between Jensen's own, making him unbalanced and uncomfortable, splayed out for this random guy's pleasure. If he'd had it in him, Jensen would have got hard again at that thought, being handled and positioned for this guy. As it was he closed his eyes and sank into the aftershocks of his orgasm as the guy rutted against him, groaning, panting and muttering “fuck, yeah” until he came, one arm snaked inside Jensen's shirt and pulling on a nipple. Jensen imagined the wet rush of heat and slipperiness in his jeans, like that in his own, and groaned himself. So fucking good. Impossibly good.  
  
After a few minutes the guy moved his weight back onto his own feet and off of Jensen and braced himself against the wall. Jensen opened his eyes and felt the floor tilt and the walls teeter. God he must've drunk more than he remembered. Eight pints? More? Who the fuck cared anyway? He pushed off from the wall and concentrated on turning without weaving. “Thanks dude.” He walked back down the corridor with the careful walk of the drunk who still thinks he's fooling people. Water, that's what he needed. Lots of water.  
  
~~~  
  
Two days and a crappy, nauseating hangover later, Jensen gave in to the inevitable and trudged slowly to the Heads of Department meeting with the Dean of the Faculty. Jensen was drawn to the university by its Computer Science Department (and its distance from home), which in the last ten years had attracted significant and impressive names in the field. Most of that was down to Professor Jeff Morgan who had made this small, private college the place to study CS in the UK.  
  
At Jeff's invitation, Jensen had arrived feeling disenchanted, undermined and ruffled after the Padalecki thing. Tom had also been invited, and since then their work had made it increasingly sought after as a center for CS. In addition to their individual teaching and research, both he and Tom were part of a collaborative special research project based in Cambridge, the objective of which was to develop medical applications for nano machines.   
  
In about a hundred years – when the engineering caught up with the theory - it would be possible to mass produce tiny artifacts with breath-taking capabilities. Machines which were invisible to the naked eye but which could be injected into people. Machines with the capability to generate new neural pathways for those suffering with Alzheimer’s, Parkinson's disease or conditions like autism. One day, before that, it would be possible to make and program molecular sized machines that could perform miracles.  
  
Jensen loved his work: it meant something. He took it absolutely seriously. It was worth a crappy meeting. He took a deep breath and headed into the conference room.  
  
The meeting was the usual battle to get the good seats near the coffee without being in the eye-line of the Chair who doled out the actions. Jensen shifted smoothly into the optimum seats while Tom dropped his notes on the conference table and went to pick up the coffee. Mission accomplished.  
  
They were playing swords with their plastic coffee stirrers (which Jensen didn't actually need for his coffee) when Jeff called the meeting to order. About five minutes into the review of the last minutes, the door opened and a very tall man ducked through the door. “Morning everyone.”   
  
That voice. Jensen knew That Voice. Even if he didn't his dick was reminding him, because it twitched at the same time as Jensen's eyes widened.  _Please, please, please God, no._  
  
He'd seen photos of course. He'd wanted to know what the fucker looked like but the rangy, fairly skinny, long-haired guy on the back of his first book (and he'd never bothered to keep up after that) had grown some. Mostly in the shoulders it looked like and, yeah, now? Now, he was built. Jensen had a flash of the strong grip on his arm outside the pub and looked away. He straightened his pencils alongside his notebook and cursed his skin for the flare of color washing through his cheeks. Fuck. He shifted, dick swollen and uncomfortable in his jeans as he remembered hard thighs against his, the feel of that big body shoving against his own and that silky tongue in his mouth. It wouldn't be the first time a drunken hook- up had turned embarrassing, but this was beyond fucking embarrassing. It had tipped all the way over into potential humiliation.  
  
“Thank you for joining us Professor Padalecki. We've started, so you'll forgive me if I delay the introductions.” Padalecki nodded as if he had any choice in the matter and Jensen tried to concentrate on the meeting. Jeff's words drifted over him. Shit. For the first time in their short acquaintance Padalecki (and  _fucking hell_ right there) was clearly visible to Jensen.  
  
Jensen already knew the guy with The Voice was tall, built, strong and sexy but he hadn't realized he had moles or that his eyes were so cat like in the flesh, or that he was fucking Padalecki!

Jensen discreetly tried to prevent himself from freaking out, but he couldn't concentrate. He remembered the tiny hard points of Padalecki's nipples under his roaming hands and the way he'd manhandled Jensen: he felt his skin flame again. Of course, that was the moment when Padalecki's interested gaze scanned his face before moving onto Tom. The gaze paused and looked back at him.  
  
For an instant his eyes narrowed in consideration and then he smiled at Jensen. A searing, secret smile which told Jensen more clearly than any words could that Padalecki had seen more of Jensen's face than Jensen had seen of his. He wondered if Padalecki had seen him better in the street outside the pub or in the club, not that it mattered. Jensen’s stomach squirmed in the bad way but he tried not to show it, ignored the smile and let his eyes slip away from Padalecki's.  
  
Jensen had felt Tom watching him since Padalecki had come in and he knew it wouldn't take his friend long to connect the dots. Tom leaned forward on the pretense of writing some notes and hissed at Jensen. “Please don't tell me...?” Jensen nodded. Tom sighed and gestured to his pad: “You are a clueless DICK!” was scrawled in the margin. Jensen guessed he had that right.  
  
Jensen concentrated on looking absorbed in the meeting and avoiding Padalecki's eye. He tightened his jaw and tried not to grind his teeth as those strange eyes scanned over him. Jensen felt raw, exposed, and under scrutiny and it chafed against his nerves at the same time as it made him feel –  _whatever_.  
  
Eventually, Jeff finished the regular agenda items, all the Heads had given their report and they were on to Any Other Business. Jeff turned to Padalecki. “Ladies and Gentlemen, if you haven't already realized, allow me to introduce Associate Professor Jared Padalecki. Professor Padalecki's workload will be primarily research and project based although, of course, he will also give a lecture as part of his tour.” At this Jared nodded.” He will be with us for at least this academic year. I am sure many of you are familiar with his work, particularly on engineering nano machines (at this there were equal parts nods and worried glances towards Jensen). We are delighted to welcome him to our team.”  
  
Then Jeff gestured around the table and asked them to introduce themselves and tell Padalecki what they were working on.  
  
Yes, here it was, the awkward that Jensen had not anticipated when he'd grabbed The Voice's arm in the club... not only was he introducing himself to a man who'd recently given him permission to come but also one who'd been the cause of his most painful professional embarrassment to date. Oh, and there was no question of hiding it. In about two minutes Padalecki was going to connect both pieces of information and Jensen doubted the floor would open up and swallow him before then. He had a brief flare of hope about a fire alarm but then it was his turn.  
  
“Dr Ackles, Computer Science, particular interest in algorithms for nano machine programming. I believe you are familiar with at least some of my work, particularly my early theoretical works on software agents. I understand your first book relied heavily – oh my apologies, Professor, I forgot. You happened to come to the same conclusions at the same time.”  
  
 _What the fuck?_  The room went silent. Jensen had had no intention of referring to the incident. Not only was it incredibly rude to force his colleagues to witness it but it was in poor taste to refer to it with sarcasm. But the whole thing had him rattled and no-one said he didn't have a temper. Jensen knew he should be blushing again, this time in shame, but fuck it. This guy had it coming.  
  
Professor (he's not a fucking proper Professor yet, thought Jensen bitterly) Padalecki looked dumbstruck for ten whole seconds then he smiled, showing off perfectly symmetrical dimples and unfeasibly white teeth and said “Dr  _Jensen Ackles_? Of course. It's a pleasure to  _finally be introduced.”_  
  
Jensen doubted anyone else, with the possible exception of Tom, picked up on the sly undercurrent in that particular choice of words but Jensen didn't miss anything and he felt the full impact of the jibe at their earlier, nameless meetings. The bastard: who the fuck was he judging? Jensen glared at him.  
  
“As you say, I have found your work to be fascinating and you are correct: my first book did have a coincidental similarity to your conclusions. It seems, at least in our case, that great minds do think alike.” And he smiled another warm-as-Texas smile and flashed it around the room. Everyone smiled in response as he smoothed over the awkwardness with that comment, which appeared to suggest the whole matter was a happy coincidence. Tom made his own introduction and soon the meeting came to an end.  
  
Jensen resisted the urge to storm out of the meeting and slam the door, but his ordeal wasn't over yet. Jeff turned to Jensen as their colleagues clattered chairs against the table on their way out.  
  
“Jensen. A word please.”  
  
“Of course.” Jensen followed Jeff down the Rector's corridor, and for once did not appreciate the beauty of the landscaped quadrangle which lay outside the windows, nor did he marvel at the family of ducks which made themselves at home every winter, instead he plodded after Jeff into his mahogany paneled office. “Shut the door.”  
  
Right, it was going to be  _that_  kind of meeting. Jensen mentally scanned his projects but everything was going to plan. It had to be about Padalecki.  
  
“I know how busy you are Jensen, so I won't take up much of your time. Can you work with Padalecki?”  
  
Jensen nodded. He didn't like it, but he'd do it.  
  
“We are all, now well aware of how you feel, even in the rare event that we were not before today's meeting, however, I want to be very clear: Professor Padalecki's looking for a full chair, has his sights set on Cambridge. Figures. But he needs something big. His sponsors believe your support will ensure he gets his chair. In return, with his help, we could win the Lever Hulme Prize. That means great things for your career Jensen. You're what 30 now? You could have a chair at 36. How'd that sound Professor?”  
  
Jensen knew he deserved the reprimand and the reminder. “Pretty good.” His aching jaw unclenched barely enough for him to force the words out. He still wanted to slam doors and kick things but it was nothing to do with Jeff. Jeff watched him for a moment and whatever he saw must have convinced him because he gestured towards the door. 

“Good. I know you'll make the right decision. Thank you for your time Jensen.”

He nodded and ducked out, making for his room. He was beginning to feel the come down after his moment of conflict with Padalecki and an uncomfortable and unexpected feeling of self-consciousness was edging in as Jeff's succinct reprimand sank in. Sure, he hadn't been exactly reticent when he'd arrived – the incident had been fresh and his hurt and shock raw, but he hadn't discussed it that much, had he?  
  
Man, he'd hated his work being scrutinized against Padalecki's like that, hated that it had been done scurrilously (well, what passed for scurrilous with academics anyway) on message boards, blogs and all when it should have been through journal articles, papers and – oh, screw it. He wanted a coffee and the sanctuary of his room.  
  
But the universe was against him, again, because Padalecki was waiting for him when he came out of Jeff's office. He was seated further down the corridor, his elbows resting on his knees on one of the wooden benches where badly behaved students waited to be seen by the Vice-Chancellor, the University's highest authority. However, instead of looking nervous and remorseful as they usually did, he looked confident and relaxed. Jensen braced himself to hear That Voice again (and how had he missed that freaking obvious connection, anyway? There weren't that many Texans around so a new one shouldn’t go unnoticed).   
  
By now he'd stopped beside Professor Padalecki. Jensen forced himself to look into his face. The guy looked like life was a breeze and everything was going to plan. He also looked sun kissed, hot and well-dressed. Jensen added another couple of lines to his “ _Reasons to Hate Padalecki”_ list.  
  
“Well, I get to meet you at last Dr Ackles. Or can I call you Jensen? After all…” at this he paused and gave Jensen a very thorough, head-to-toe appraisal which did not make the breath hitch in his throat or make his skin tingle with awareness. “I feel like we’re old friends.”

He sat back, one arm spread along the back of the bench. He seemed totally unconcerned that Jensen had the height advantage, so much so that Jensen suspected he'd chosen the position on purpose to soothe Jensen or something. Or that Jensen was simply not worth the courtesy of standing up. Both ideas made Jensen feel even more pissed off.

“I wouldn't go that far.” 

“How far would you go?” Jared made the words sound sinful and dirty and Jensen didn't want to hear the humor beneath the words. He had no intention of making this easy on the sneaky bastard.

So, he stood, stubbornly silent. He knew he was acting like a belligerent teenager but couldn't seem to stop himself. He ignored the jolt of sexual awareness he felt at the suggestive undertone and tried to blank the memory of Padalecki's warm skin and hard muscle shuddering under his hands. He tried not to imagine the kind of leashed growl he'd make if Jensen answered “as far as you want”. Already he hated how he was around this guy: it felt wrong, dangerous, and heady. But that was understandable: he was a liar and a cheat and he'd seen Jensen come. Jensen rubbed his forehead with his knuckles and held back his temper with difficulty.

Jared was still watching him and Jensen didn't even want to think how much information that brain was taking in. Jared started to speak.

“I've read your latest papers. Very impressive. I...”

Jensen opened his mouth and, before he could stop them, the words came out, bitter and hard as bullets.

“Gonna steal those ideas too? Gonna let me get up at another conference and find that my paper was not actually anything new? Gonna pass off the conclusions of my research as yours?” Jensen felt simultaneously terrible and elated. His heart was pounding and his hands were shaking at the anger which had never gone away, but which had festered and now raced through him with a sickening rage. At the same time he was finally getting it off his chest to the prick that had caused it all and that felt good. Fucking amazing, in fact.

Jared jumped to his feet and seemed to grow wider: his face was tense and humorless, the Texan charm all gone.  _Yeah, the fucker wasn't so cool now_. Jensen felt anticipation in every cell of his body. Oh, he'd heard all the excuses, explanations from sympathetic friends and colleagues, but he'd heard nothing from Padalecki, though he'd read the message boards, unable to tear himself away from the debate: who was right, who was wrong, and then the book tour started and Jensen had decided to come to Europe. He'd wanted to leave it all behind, but he should know better by now: you were still  _you_  wherever you went and your shit came with you.

“It wasn't like that. I stole nothing from you Dr Ackles.” 

Jensen snorted derisively at that and Jared stiffened and stepped forward, right up into Jensen's face. Jensen could feel the puffs of his breath against his cheek and smell the soft leather of his jacket. “Well, Doctor I can see you don't want to act professionally or even civilly, so let me return the favor: if you ever again insinuate that my reputation as a scholar is unearned or based on anything but my own work or that of named co-authors then I will make you regret it.”

Jensen snorted again “Yeah? What you gonna do? Call me names on Facebook?” Jensen was aware that wasn't his best come back, either, but what the hell? He was a CS geek not an orator.

Professor (Associate) Jared Padalecki smiled. It was the kind of smile that made promises you didn't want to see kept. “No, Dr. Ackles, I consider myself above that kind of activity, but I find it interesting that you clearly do not. Good morning.”

Jensen watched him walk away. He couldn’t help feeling a surge of childish triumph that he’d had his say and at the same time got to the bastard. So, he never really questioned why his heart was racing, he felt heat in his belly and his dick was tingling.

[Part Two](http://bornof-sorrow.livejournal.com/77438.html)  



	2. A Bold Guess Rewrite Part Two NC17

Title details [here](http://bornof-sorrow.livejournal.com/76806.html)

[Part One](http://bornof-sorrow.livejournal.com/77311.html)

Bold Guess (Redux) Part Two

By the time Tom had made them a pot of coffee and listened to the whole sorry tale, he was avoiding Jensen's eye. Tom was a great friend and a trustworthy confidante but he was practically incapable of lying, even telling decent white lies to save uncomfortable truths. Fortunately for Tom he didn't have to.   
  
Tom looked at him and seemed ready to speak. The least Jensen could do was save him the bother.  
  
Jensen squirmed in his chair “I know, I know. Not my finest moment.”  
  
“It really wasn’t, Jen. What were you thinking? I know you wear your heart on your sleeve a bit – but airing your dirty linen in public? God, Jensen. “Tom shoved the Jaffa Cakes towards him.  
  
“Was it that bad? I mean, it’s true- well, basically true...and…” he trailed off and crammed a Jaffa Cake in his mouth.   
  
Tom shrugged. “Time and place, dude. Academics like gossip but not conflict. Well, here anyway. You’ve got to work with him too. As for the sex...” He shrugged eloquently again and if Jensen hadn't already reached his cringe quotient for the day, he'd be hitting it around about now.  _Shit, shit, shit._   _What_ had _he been thinking?_  
  
They both stared dejectedly into their mugs before Tom gave his judgment: “Yep, you are a tool and now you've got to get on with it. Good luck with that, Jen ~~se~~.”  
  
Jensen couldn't agree more. 

“Yeah, thanks Tom.”   
  
  
~~~  
  
Over the next couple of days Jensen did what he usually did when faced with a complex emotional situation: he worked. He went on line to Mike and they discussed probability problems and P and NP. In the bits of his brain that weren't fully occupied with his teaching, research, and projects, Jensen loved the idea of solving one of the Millennium Prize Problems, and there was a friendly rivalry with Mike who sometimes knocked ideas around with him. 

 

Then he caught up via email with his older brother, who was a neuro- surgeon. He was working on ideas on neural bionics and he and Jensen had a regular update into the Cambridge project. Then, when he'd exhausted those options and probably his most extensive bid yet to stay in his room and avoid people, he opened up his latest algorithms and programs. When he lifted his head it was five o'clock and he was starving. He looked out in the corridor but Tom's door was shut.

Still wrapped up in probabilities, he went across campus, in the cold twilight which pinched at his skin, to the student center. He nodded to various colleagues along the way, absorbed in his thoughts. He grabbed a large black coffee and a chicken and pesto Panini and went to his favorite table at the back by the door to the kitchens. He was scribbling equations in his notebook when he realized someone was standing next to him. He looked up and it was Padalecki.  
  
“Professor.” Jensen closed his notebook and slid it into the back pocket of his jeans. He arched his hips up to reach, and when he looked up the Professor's eyes were hooded and watching him. Jensen swallowed and managed “What can I do for you?”  
  
Padalecki flicked his eyes back up to Jensen's face and smiled. The smile was wolfish and brief, but it conveyed, as it was meant to, that Professor Padalecki liked what he saw.  
  
Jensen knew he was considered hot. He didn't have much trouble attracting the sexual attention of men or women, never had. But at the same time he wasn't really up with being a pretty piece of meat either. He readied himself for a crude come on.  
  
“Dr Ackles. I’d like to speak to you, if you don’t mind. Would you like another coffee or would you prefer to talk in your rooms?” He sounded unruffled and cool, in control, and Jensen felt his anger stir at the not-really-a-suggestion. It had nothing to do with the fact that the guy hadn't hit on him as he’d expected.  
  
Jared’s eyes were intent on him, still sitting in the booth. They were a funny color, not quite green or brown. Sort of hazel. Huh. Jensen shrugged and picked up his coffee and dropped the Panini wrapper into the trash. “This way.” He tried not to imagine his momma’s face at his manners but this guy just rubbed him up the wrong way. And that was totally the wrong mental image to conjure up. Jared fell into step beside him.  
  
He led Jared back to his room and neither of them said a word. Small talk was out and Jensen guessed that whatever Jared wanted to say was best done in private. He seemed much better at reigning himself in than Jensen. But not all the time, he remembered, and at that thought he felt a little of his normal equilibrium return. By the time they reached the still-warm room, Jensen was ready to be professional.  
  
“Have a seat.” Jensen waved at the leather armchair and shoved the papers currently piled there onto the floor. He threw his jacket in the corner and sat at his desk.  
  
Jared settled his length into the chair and smiled at Jensen. It wasn't the world's most sincere smile. Good. Jensen didn't like the idea he was the only one off balance when they met. “So, we have a lot of work to do together. My sponsors have generously provided a research grant and funded a lecture tour on the prospect of our work being mutually beneficial and, I guess, exciting and newsworthy. I need to know now if...our history...any of it...is going to cause a problem in realizing that objective.”  
  
“You  _need to know now,_ do you? Do you always get what you want?” 

Jensen's words were out before he finished thinking them. What was it about this guy that barreled straight through the normal social filters Jensen had thought were intrinsic to his personality?  
  
Jared's smile dimmed but the soothing charm was still there. “Yes. Usually.”  
  
“Uh huh.” Jensen leaned back in his chair and wondered why that pissed him off so much, and why he'd asked. He didn't know and that ratcheted the pissed off to another level. But he'd embarrassed himself enough with this guy and it didn't look like he was getting an apology and Jensen was damn straight not offering one, so.  
  
“It won't cause me a problem. I want the prize, the funding and the research. It's irrelevant that it's with you.”  
  
Jared crossed one leg onto his thigh and Jensen tried not to look at the muscle outlined by the dark material or check out whether any of that smooth warm skin was on display. Okay, the guy was distracting, but so what?  
  
Jared looked skeptical and amused. “Really?” He let that hang in the air for a moment or two and Jensen was determined not to fill the silence. Jared seemed to reach a decision of some sort because his shoulders relaxed slightly and he leaned forward towards Jensen. “That's great news. Your last theoretical paper was amazing, by the way. The work your brother is doing has so much potential. My sponsors...”  
  
Jensen interrupted him.  
  
“Yeah, but your sponsors are military or corporate aren't they? That's where the big bucks are – guess that's why you have the lecture tours and the research assistants.”  
  
Jared rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath. Then he sat back and looked at Jensen thoughtfully. “Really, Jensen? That's your argument? Are you even convinced by that? Okay, let’s examine the issues for the moment, seeing as they appear to bother you so much.”   
  
Jared got up out of the battered leather armchair and strolled over to Jensen's crammed bookshelves. He traced his fingers along the spines of the books, apparently looking for something. Jensen tried not to imagine how those fingers would feel touching each vertebrae of his spine. He twisted in his chair and scooted towards the desk, slouched back lazily and hoped for nonchalant.  
  
Jared turned towards him and leaned against the bookshelf, lean and long and masculine in designer denim and what looked like cashmere. “Military: you collaborate with Mike Rosenbaum and he is directly involved in nano machine generation using biochemical solutions. He is currently, if I'm not mistaken, working on prolonging the operating life of “pixie dust”?  
  
Jensen nodded.  
  
“Which is being tested and used in Afghanistan?” This time Jared didn't wait for Jensen's nod.  
  
“A very clear military application for which he is rewarded with sponsorship, lecture tours and research assistants?” Jared pushed away from the shelf and came over to Jensen's desk. Jensen shifted lower in his chair, unable to look away from the intense concentration on Jared's face. It was hot. Very hot, actually. But that wasn't the point.  
  
Jared moved on with a small nod as if Jensen had made a sign of agreement.  
  
“Corporate: I admit my sponsors are. I have two questions for you – actually, three. One, if you are successful in contributing to the development of cures for cancer or any other kind of medical problem through the use of nano machines, how will you do so without pharmaceutical sponsors who are, it is sad to say, incredibly commercially rampant? Two, if your brother's work is successful in finding a way to create an interface between human neurons and computer chips, is it his own or your father's private hospitals which will benefit first with this ‘cure’ technology and three, do you hold any patents pending for technology which you foresee from these areas of research? If the answer to any of these questions is, as I suspect, yes, then, Dr Ackles, your apparent disdain for my sponsors is moot and approaching hypocritical.”  
  
Jensen said nothing. He considered his own argument for a moment and opened his mouth. Padalecki's eyes flickered down and all of a sudden the air in the room was stuffy and heavy. Jensen drew in a breath and Jared's eyes dropped to his chest which inflated and expanded perceptively. He knew, absolutely, that they were both thinking about that club and what they had done to each other in the corridor. Before words got in the way. Before names got in the way.  
  
“I take your point.” Jensen's voice sounded strong and reasonable which was a miracle because he was, well he didn't exactly know what he was. Annoyed? Horny? Looking for a fight? Under-caffeinated? Intrigued? Probably all of them.  
  
“Look, I don't really know what's going on here, but it’s clear we have to work together. We've agreed on that. Let's leave it at that for now.” Jensen got up to open the door so Jared could leave. He just wanted him gone so he could work out what the fuck was going on.  
  
Jared picked up his jacket. “I know.”  
  
It took Jensen a moment to focus. “What?”  
  
“What's going on?” Jared said patiently. It was dangerously close to the kind of tone Jensen himself used with freshmen and now he was mostly just pissed off. Again.  
  
“No, I meant  _what_  do you think is going on. I understood both your remark and your intention the first time.”  
  
Jared laughed and ran a hand through his stupid hair. “It's sexual tension. I want you, you want me. We probably need to get it out of our systems, but looking at your face right now it seems unlikely.” He shrugged and pushed his arms into the sleeves of his jacket, still looking Jensen in the eye.  
  
Jensen's exasperation must have leaked into his expression because Jared reached over and gently nudged his dropped jaw back up. Jensen wanted to knock this fucker's head off his shoulders.  
  
“I don't need you to give me lessons in sex...” he sputtered out.  
  
“Well, that's good news 'cause I really like it better when guys know what to do.” Jared's smile was charming and sly. The dick was winding Jensen up and enjoying it.  
  
Jared sauntered through the open door and ambled down the corridor. He turned around and walked backwards for a few steps and Jensen was still standing there like an utter tool. “G'night Jensen.” But it came out all drawled and Texan and Jensen slammed the door. 

Later, as he kicked through leaf-piles on his way home, it occurred to him that Jared was very well informed about Jensen - or, at least, his research.

Jensen didn't quite know what to think about that.

~~~  
  


27th September 2010  
  
After a weekend of hard work and a couple of five-a-side games of soccer with Tom, Chris and the guys, Jensen was ready to deal with  another dose of Professor Padalecki. They had to start to plan out their workload, allocate specific tasks to Jared's research assistants and schedule any lab work. The previous Thursday Jensen had received a lab project plan with a set of outline notes from Jared's meeting with the lab techs. Basically, Jensen was going to help Jared set up some experiments which built on their research, Mike's and other contributors to the Cambridge project.  
  
They were going to build nano machines in two different ways: firstly, biologically by coaxing bacteria to excrete metallic atoms in certain patterns that could be used to create tiny complex linear machines; secondly, manufacture them by using finely tuned lasers. The first method was in use and Jared had, apparently been reading up on Mike's techniques and the recent refinements. Jensen and the lab techs were already familiar with these from previous collaborations with Mike.  
  
However, and this, to Jensen, was the really exciting part, significant progress was still needed in the latter technique. He had envisioned theoretical methods of using these machines in many of his papers but the technology lagged a long way behind the theory. Jared's engineering work, however, had focused on how these machines might be built to a greater level of accuracy and detail and on a smaller scale. Much of his recent work, and his sponsorship, stemmed from his progress in developing the tools to make the machines. In other words, he _could_ make the lasers that _could_ make the machines that Jensen _could_ program to do amazing things. Like be injected into people and find and destroy cancer cells.  
  
When Jensen checked his calendar he saw that Jared had put in an appointment. For an hour; it was untitled but was in Jensen's room. Jensen pondered that one for a few minutes, assessing the possibilities and then clicked “accept” before he picked up his notes and went to give an intermediate level lecture on approaches to cascade problem solving.  
  
When he got back Jared was in his room. He seldom locked it when Tom was in but now he wished he had. He didn't like the idea of Jared being in his space, alone. He leaned in the doorway and watched Jared read one of his books from the shelf.  
  
“You're very cocky...erm, forward aren’t you?” Jensen said. Jared turned, casual as ever, and smiled at him.  
  
“Yep. Ain’t no prizes for second place, near misses or not quite, so yeah, I guess I am.” He placed the book back on the shelf and waited. So did Jensen.   
  
Eventually, smiling and shaking his head, Jared said “Please note that I could have made a remark about how forward you are, but I chose not to. I chose not to remind both of us of how you grabbed me and wanted to be all up close and personal before we'd even met. But I haven't. Though I'd like to.” He gave Jensen a leisurely once over that made the color erupt onto his skin and his cheeks. “That's part of my gesture of goodwill.”   
  
Jensen had to admit Jared did the whole charm thing really well, what with the hair and the eyes going on, but he kind of knew that already. The thought irritated him and snapped his mind back to his point.  
  
Jensen came into the room and nodded. “Yeah, just like my gesture is me choosing not to mention the fact that my first knowledge of you was actually long before we met when you made me look like a second rate loser, by, oh yeah, happening to think up the same thing I did at the same time, when we both know we had corresponded about my initial theoretical work on nano machines. Thanks for that.” He took a leaf out of Jared's book and rested his hips against the edge of his desk.  
  
“Oh, so that's your version of events? I've wondered about that. You sure made certain everyone got to hear your version first. “Jared turned his head to look at Jensen and Jensen was very aware that this morning, Jared looked like he'd stepped out of a GQ shoot to take this meeting. Jensen hated being aware of that, and it made him pissy and restless. Jared stared at him like he could read Jensen's mind if he glared hard enough.  
  
Before he really engaged his brain, Jensen spoke.  
  
“Pity they didn't get to hear my conference paper first before you published.” Shit. He really needed to stop his mouth doing that. Seemed spitting things out without a filter was infectious because Jared's face lost all traces of good humor. He snarled and bit out:  
  
“I get that you are a spoiled little prince and all, but do you have to be a prick?” Jared pushed away from the desk, running his hands through his hair and obviously trying to get hold of his anger.   
  
Jensen was absurdly pleased that he'd got to him and he wasn't the only one losing his temper. But Jared wasn't finished, though his next words lacked the heat of a few moments before. “The time we hooked up? I'll admit I saw you and followed you in the club. I felt your reaction outside the pub. That kind of chemistry doesn't happen too often Jensen. Your work is great, and by all accounts you can be real sweet, but this? You are still so pissed about a mis-understanding years ago? Christ.”  
  
“A _mis-understanding_? You presented my work as your own. But the worst of it was everyone assumed I'd taken your ideas.”  
  
Jared made a noise which adequately conveyed both his disbelief and dismissal of Jensen's position. He straightened and stood up making the few inches he had on Jensen count.  
  
“That's crap Jensen. I did my own work. You're pissed because I went with it and got it out there. Don't blame me if your plans for your work didn't go the way you thought. Your work speaks for itself and if you could just lose that victim pity chip on your shoulder, you'd see that. Let's plan this work and I'll get out of your way. Before you, I don't know, start acting like a pissy fifteen year old that got grounded.”  
  
There wasn't a lot to say to that without looking like said fifteen year old so Jensen wisely bit his tongue, for once. They got on with the work and Jared stuck to his word. The message was clear: they'd get the work done and everything else was pretty much off the menu.  
  
Jensen was relieved. Or disappointed. He couldn't decide which.  
  
~~~~  
November  
  
As October drifted into November their work picked up pace and the weather got worse with frosty early mornings and damp misty afternoons which sank into icy nights. Jensen was as busy as he'd ever been. He was on top of his own work and research and his work with Padalecki was effective and efficient, although strained by their personal ‘whatever it was.’ Jared updated Jeff and his sponsors with their progress and Jensen was the main liaison with the Cambridge side of things. They stayed out of each other's way, using email or the rest of the team to liaise when they had to.  
  
It was pretty much professional. If sometimes Jared's eyes grew dark and heavy when he listened to Jensen brief the lab team or direct the research students, while his eyes drew paths from Jensen's ass to his face and back again, then Jensen pretended he didn't notice. And if Jensen sometimes lost the thread of Jared's words when he wondered what the skin which lay under the silky brown curls at Jared's nape felt like or he wanted to lean forward so he could breathe in Jared's scent, then Jared also pretended not to notice though he allowed a curl of a smile around the side of his mouth. That smile. Jensen wanted to understand that smile.  
  
On the 5th November the Brits excelled themselves with Bonfire Night. As far as Jensen could tell it was an archaic and barbaric celebration and involved bonfires, fireworks and burning effigies. In the six years he'd been there he'd never understood it, so he elected to stay at home and catch up on some reading. Jared had been intrigued about the celebration so Tom and Jamie had invited him to join them at the public firework display in a nearby park.  
  
He sat in flannel pajama bottoms and an old Caltech hoodie in front of the real coal fire in his living room. His semi-detached house was close to campus and small by American standards but plenty big enough for one. He had a back garden with a deck where he sat outside, weather permitting. Currently the weather did not permit and he needed his fire.   
  
Rain pattered against the windows and he could hear fireworks cracking and popping through the glass. He squished into his sofa and lay back contentedly, feet resting on the back of the couch, and picked up the topmost of a stack of journals.  
  
His long-standing anger towards Jared had prevented him from following his work to date too closely. Firstly, he had plenty of his own work to do and, secondly, he kept up with the gist of it in reviews of his articles and papers. However, their work now required that he had a greater understanding and, frankly, he was intrigued.  
  
The Jared he'd seen most recently was focused and polite but slightly cool. Strangely, the cooler he became the less he pissed off Jensen, which left a fair bit of room for Jensen to feel other things. Like lust, for example. 

 

He remembered enough of their corridor encounter to wonder what they could do with privacy and uninterrupted time alone. Not that Jensen had given it much thought but he couldn't think about work every minute, right? On the other hand, his time dry humping Jared's leg was blurry and drunken enough to make him think a repeat experience was merited – from a scientific point of view - to gather more data. Data like, what Jared's chest would look like under his searching hands; or whether the size of his hands was any indication of the size of his other body parts and Jensen's memories were  _not_ exaggerated; or whether his liking for giving out orders with a charming smile extended to the bedroom. Jensen was leaning towards “probably” especially when he remembered That Voice telling him to “C’mon. Go for it. Come for me.” But like he said, insufficient data for a firm hypothesis: it was an intellectual loose end and Jensen hated those, so, yeah. That's all it was.

By the time he'd read the previous two years’ worth of Jared's papers, both single and co-authored, his coffee pot was empty and he'd eaten a packet of cheese straws and a whole tub of hummus because he didn't want to break to heat up actual food.   
  
Much of Jared's work on the engineering challenges of nano machine production wasn't that new to Jensen. After all, he and Mike had discussed both the theory and the practical limitations many times, also Mike and Jared had done a fair few joint papers on practical issues too.  
  
But the purer engineering disciplines? Some of those were beautiful, there was no other word. Jared's approach was always clever, succinct and brilliantly deft. He made multi-layered, cross-disciplinary approaches seem coherent, full of possibility and realistic, the kind of combination that, in Jensen's experience, actually led to changes and new applications. But here and there he soared, his brain offering up amazing insights backed up by results and mastery of his subject matter which, well, made Jensen both horny and almost fan boyish.  
  
Clever and  _really_ smart people were Jensen's thing. He loved a tight ass and a good looking face as much as the next guy but, with the exception of random hook-ups and the occasional fuck-buddy, Jensen wanted smart and hot. It wasn't that hard to find one without the other but the two together was pretty rare. He'd had a few boyfriends back at Caltech who'd fit the bill and they'd definitely had a lot of fun together before going their separate ways with different schools, career paths and all. Jensen was still in touch with some of them. But it had been a long while since he'd met a guy who was both, or at least both smart and hot to the degree that Jared appeared to be.  
  
This brought him back to the initial problem. Jared  _appeared_ to be. Most of the world thought he'd appeared that brilliant back when he'd used Jensen's ideas and passed them off as his own. So he was hot (really, really hot) and he was smart (certainly, based on what he'd read) but he was also unscrupulous. And for what? Research funding?  _Acclaim_?  
  
And now he was back to being pissed with the guy.  
  
~~~  
  
Jensen was watching Jared lecture. He was sitting to the side of the theater and Jared was talking and smiling and generally charming the ass off his students, most of whom were panting with the effort to impress him. But Jared was only interested in him. Every now and again he'd come over to Jensen and stop what he was doing and kiss him. They weren't quick pecks of affection. Each and every one was different.  
  
The first kiss was so unexpected that it literally left Jensen shaking with desire. Jared was talking about beautiful structures and their joy and simplicity. He walked over to Jensen and tipped up his head with his knuckle. He compared Jensen's face to a beautiful structure – how the bone structure was perfect, how his cheekbones were even more stunning profile view than full-face, how his eyes were framed by dark, emphatic lashes, how the details of his coloring and freckles made him unique and perfect. Each comment was punctuated with a kiss of emphasis – a glide across his cheekbones, a gentle press to each eye-lid, a flutter of Jared's lashes against his own. Jensen could feel his heart thundering in his chest with the attention and Jared's words, with the possessive pride with which Jared said them and the way his dark, wanting eyes slid over every feature he mentioned.  
  
Then Jared talked about his mouth. He stroked the pad of his thumb along it while he spoke and Jensen's desire rose in increments of words and description until Jared dipped his head and kissed him. Jensen registered the collective sigh of the students with his own sigh of pleasure as Jared's lips met his and his heart stopped. Jensen felt like he'd stepped off a cliff into thin air and perfect pleasure rushed through him like his body would rush through the air but Jared held him close and Jensen held on tight and they kissed and kissed until Jared gently pulled back and continued his lecture.  
  
Jensen groaned and grabbed for Jared's sleeve and caught it. He held onto it until Jared turned to him again. This time he stroked his thumbs under Jensen's eyes then used his hands to hold Jensen's face ready as he kissed him, deep and possessive, want and desire in every touch. Jensen tightened his hands around his shoulders and poured all his own lust into the kiss and this time, when Jared turned away, Jensen was hard and aching under the desk.  
  
By the third time the students were holding their breath and so was Jensen when Jared pulled him to his feet and dragged their hips together. Jensen nearly exploded there and then but Jared said “wait” so Jensen did while Jared kissed him until his mouth was tender and his lips were swollen and it felt like the world had narrowed down to the two of them and their kiss. When Jared pulled back and said “now” Jensen came in a grabbing, twisting effort to press as close as possible to Jared and his sinful mouth. He didn't care about the students watching but then Jensen was suddenly back in the corridor by the bathroom and savoring the soaring pleasure which tore through him at Jared's hand and command. When he woke up on the sofa before the faintly smoldering fire he'd come in his pants, just like the first time.  
  
Shit. Coming in his pants, well, he could deal with the squelchy discomfort, but dreaming of kisses and being adored? What the fuck was up with that? ~~~  
10th November 2010  
  
When Jensen next saw Jared (in reality that is), he _was_ giving a lecture. Such was Jared's fame, and general hotness, that the theater was full. Although the situation brought his Friday night wet-dream to mind (again), Jensen attempted to concentrate on Jared's words without pondering why he'd dreamt so passionately about kisses without even so much as a hint of a hand or a mouth or an ass around his dick.  
  
Jared had chosen to discuss the ethical implications of their attempts to generate complex nano machines. As Jared began to speak about the difficulties of balance when one was attempting to create artificially intelligent machines which could simultaneously be used to save people in a previously unimagined way and, at the same time, be used to murder them horribly, if one chose, Jensen studied him.  
  
His eyes followed the line of Jared's impressive frame and replayed the sense memory of Jared standing over him; how good he'd felt against Jensen and how easily he'd pulled him in and handled him. Watching him now, everything about him said “confident”. He was self-assured from his jeans that fit just so, to his Henley that hugged the inverted triangle of his body from shoulder to hip, to the t-shirt underneath which hid the skin of his collarbone. Jensen wondered if his chest was still as smooth and sleek as it was in the club and not for the first time he felt that uncomfortable combination of regret that he hadn't been sober and couldn't remember it better and elation from what he could remember and the twist in his gut that it might be the only time.  
  
He shook himself out of his daydream to hear Jared describe how “pixie dust” was wonderful as an invisible means of gathering military intelligence but could one day be developed to, for example, invade a person’s bloodstream and puncture blood vessels so one bled to death internally or how it could be used to asphyxiate a person by being directed to the lungs – all whilst being invisible, maneuverable and biodegradable in a matter of hours. He was compelling; his intelligence and ability shone from him.  
  
Jensen could see what his sponsors saw, could see what made the students sit up straight and flash their assets. He could imagine Jared at Cambridge, this time a full Professor, one of the youngest for centuries; then the guest spots on Newsnight, the columns in The Times, the profile in New Scientist. Jensen had no doubt he'd be wonderful at it, fulfilling the role of the hot young academic with enough glamor to become the media darling on this side of the Atlantic that he appeared to be on the other.  
  
But Jensen knew that it wasn't real. Not all of it anyway. At best Jared was looking after number one and Jensen just hadn't been brought up that way. 

 

His parents ran the Ackles Charitable Foundation alongside their own work as surgeons and the family business interests. Josh followed suit and they were well-respected in Dallas society. Jensen had never been into the see and be seen side of things but he was far from an underachiever and he knew his parents and brother respected his choices and his work, as he respected theirs. They would be shocked and horrified if he had ever cheated or passed off someone else's work as his own, and rightly so. It didn't make sense, either: Jared was obviously capable of excellent work of his own, so why'd he used Jensen's? On the two occasions it had been brought up Jared had made it clear that he did not accept the charge, nor did it  seem to bother  Jared as it bothered Jensen, which told Jensen that maybe he didn't think it was a big deal. Another good reason for Jensen to stay well away.

  
The combination of their strained working relationship, Jensen's dream, and his memory of their encounter made Jensen feel a strange fraught pull towards Jared that, sex possibilities aside, felt as dangerous and unpredictable as, well... pixie dust to him. He got up and walked out of the lecture. When he looked back, Jared was watching him go.  
  
~~~  
  
  
24th November 2010  
  
Jensen had just passed the ball forward to Chris in the dying minutes of their Wednesday night game when he caught sight of a long-legged figure huddled in a black pea-coat and knit cap on the side-lines. What was Jared doing here? 

It was freezing cold and the bitter wind dragged at his exposed thighs and turned his skin red and sore despite his activity. The floodlights over the astro-turf did what they could to keep the game visible, but the sky above was cloudless, star-strewn and full dark. There were still a few students hurrying back to dorms and the odd crowd of partying clubbers off to some cheap all-you-can-drink gig somewhere in town, but most of the staff had headed off a couple of hours ago. The car park was empty, except for a cluster around the sports hall and gym and there were few lights in the offices he could see in the Foundation wing.   
  
When he came off he was surprised when Jared called out his name and headed towards him. Jared had been spending some time with Tom and Jensen guessed he was here to see him.

 

“Hi Jensen. Was it a good game? I couldn't tell.”

He grinned and Jensen half-smiled back. He started to walk towards the sports hall and the showers. “We won but it's just for fun and exercise. What can I do for you?” Jensen turned to glance at Jared. Jared stopped and cupped Jensen's elbow to still him too. The touch was brief, impersonal but Jensen felt it right through him, jolting his frozen skin back into warm life and tingling awareness.

“It's a bit awkward actually” Jared started and he smiled his thousand watt smile, not looking awkward in the slightest. Jensen envied him, briefly, that open warm charm. “Tom and Jamie invited me to Thanksgiving dinner and I accepted: then they told me you were cooking it together and it's at your house.” He smiled at Jensen and Jensen simply stared back. Jared's smile wilted slightly. “I wanted to check it was okay to come. With you.”

Jensen automatically started to nod the affirmative, “Of course” on the tip of his tongue when the words hit him and he snapped his eyes back to Jared's but Jared just kept on grinning, friendly and easy. Jensen nodded “Sure” and walked on, wanting his shower and trying not to think about yet another lapse of manners displayed to Jared bloody Padalecki. He could feel Jared's eyes on him, roaming down his back and ass. “And Jensen...?” he called. Jensen looked back over his shoulder and Jared made a big deal out of dragging his eyes up to look him in the eye: “What?”

“Nice legs.”

~~~

25th November 2010

Despite his misgivings Jensen had to admit that spending the day with Jared around hadn't been as bad as he'd thought. The problem wasn't with Jared but with himself, he knew enough to recognize that, but, the rules of hospitality aside, he'd worried that if Jared continued with his flirting of the day before, it would be pretty uncomfortable for all concerned. But he needn't have worried. They'd eaten turkey dinner with all the trimmings, provided by him and Jamie, and in return Tom and Jared had done the dishes, served the apple pie and coffee and brought alcohol, and plenty of it.

They'd sat in Jensen's living room in front of the fire and even managed to find a bit of the Cowboys game on CBS, thanks to Jensen's satellite dish. They shared a few beers and talked, slumped in a carb coma until Tom and Jamie had roused themselves and said their goodbyes.

When Jensen came back in from seeing them out, Jared stood up and looked around for his sneakers. Jensen gestured him down into the armchair. “You don't have to rush off. There's plenty more beer, unless you need to be somewhere?” Jared shrugged, “There's nowhere I need to be. Called my mom this morning. I'm gonna see her in the New Year. What about you?”

Jensen got comfortable on the sofa and picked up his beer. “I'm not sure yet. They usually ski over Christmas and Josh and his family will join them. I saw them in August and in May, so I'm all paid up with my Family Ackles dues.”

“D’you miss ‘em?” Jared was picking the label off his beer bottle with the side of his thumbnail.

Jensen thought about it. “Sometimes, but I Skype them and email and see them when I can. How about you?” He didn’t know very much about Jared’s family at all.

“Well, I’ve been away from Texas for a while now, but I get home often enough. Being here is different though. It’s a big change.”

Jensen got up and stirred up the fire, throwing a bit more coal on. “Yeah, well, if you want Cambridge, man, you need to get used to it.”

Jensen glanced back over his shoulder at Jared who was checking out his ass. Jared lifted up his eyes, grinned then shrugged a “what can you do” gesture, but he didn’t move. He didn’t put his beer down or come towards Jensen or make any deliberate overture but his eyes slid over Jensen slowly, thoroughly, like there was an answer somewhere there. 

Jensen just stood. He could feel the heat of the gaze moving over his face, neck, chest, hips and thighs but he didn’t move any more than Jared did. Instead he looked back: Jared’s long legs were stretched out and apart where he was relaxed in the chair, his jeans were soft and faded and molded to his muscles with the denim frayed and pale around the pockets and where his dick rested. Jensen couldn’t remember seeing him in anything other than designer jeans or dress pants at work. In the old jeans and his navy hoodie, Jared looked more like a college student than a Professor.

“Jensen...” Jared’s voice was low but clear. “I wanted to talk to you about the research thing.”

Jensen straightened and moved back to the sofa. He looked away. “What about it?”

“It wasn’t like you thought, man.”

“No?”

“No. I did like your ideas but I never stole them Jensen. I never meant to cause you embarrassment. Truth was I'd been working on my own ideas for a while. You know that, that's why our supervisors hooked us up. When we corresponded I started to think from another perspective and suddenly everything came together; I was firing ideas all over the place.” Jared laughed, lost in his recall. “I have all my work still. I can prove to you how far I’d got, how close I was to the main themes in the first book. I didn’t intend to cause you any pain, Jensen.”

Jared was leaning forward on the edge of the armchair and looking at Jensen, trying to make eye-contact. Jensen could feel his skin flush with the echoes of anger, confusion and resentment. He flicked his glance at Jared who looked earnest and open, his eyes warm and sincere and he didn't know what to think. Or what to feel.

Jensen tipped his head back on to the cushions. He thought about the way he’d felt, how angry and embarrassed he’d been. How humiliated. How shocked. And how naive the shock made him feel. It wasn’t that simple.

Jensen lifted his head up and looked at Jared, who was still, watching him.

“Well, thanks, I guess? I don’t know what to say man. I’ll need to think about it.” 

Jared nodded and stood up. “Yeah, I’ll leave you to do that then.”

Jensen didn’t stop him or protest but watched him find his sneakers and shove them on, before he took his beer bottle out into the kitchen. When he came back in he had his coat on, ready to go. Jensen got up and followed him out in to the hall. They looked at each other and there didn’t seem to be much to say. Jared nodded as if he’d made the remark out loud and went out, but before he was gone he came back and reached a hand out, sliding his palm along the side of Jensen’s neck. He turned Jensen’s head so that he was looking straight into his eyes. “I’m sorry it hurt you, Jensen. I really am.” Then he dipped his head and kissed him.

The kiss was only a few seconds long and it was close-mouthed, nearly chaste. But Jensen leaned into it all the same and Jared made a noise in the back of his throat that made Jensen want to open his mouth and sink into the kiss, like he'd done in his dream. Made him want to wrap his arms around Jared and slide his hands under his hoodie. But he pulled back instead and Jared smiled and smoothed his large palm down Jensen's stubbled cheek before walking away. Jensen watched him and bit back the words that would call him back.

[Part Three](http://bornof-sorrow.livejournal.com/77623.html)   
  



	3. A Bold Guess Rewrite Part Three NC17

Title details [here](http://bornof-sorrow.livejournal.com/76806.html).

[Part Two](http://bornof-sorrow.livejournal.com/77438.html)

Bold Guess (Redux) Part Three

Jensen couldn't sleep much Thanksgiving night. He lay in his room and listened to the wind in the trees and the sounds of the street and his neighbors while the clock ticked round and the shadows on his ceiling refused to give him answers. He kept thinking about Jared's words and what they might mean. Was Jared using his charm to make life easier? Was he genuine? Could it be true? Had Jensen overreacted?

He huddled into the warmth of the covers and allowed himself to think about it all, head on, something he'd long since learnt not to do if he wanted to keep his temper in check.  
  
Back then, Jared had contacted Jensen by email, explaining that their academic advisors were aware of some synergies in their work and thought they might both find it useful to discuss their research. Jensen, as usual, had jumped in with both feet: talking to Jared had been fun, exciting and stimulating and before too long they were in touch frequently.  
  
Jensen was as work obsessed then as he was now but it had been good to have someone who shared his interest and enthusiasm. The distance between them and the fact that they only met online meant it was easy to interpret the contact as friendship and trust. Jensen knew he had been too free with the details of his research project and he'd gone into his theories on how an interface between nano machines and cellular activity could be developed.  
  
When he had arrived at that conference to deliver his theoretical paper, PhD fresh under his belt and generating some interest amongst colleagues and peers, Jensen had been optimistic, thrilled and gratified that he was starting down a path that could not only potentially contribute to great things for humanity but could help him become a renowned figure in his own right, not just as one of the Dallas Ackles. He'd worked hard, put in the hours and felt like everything was coming together, that his path was the right one and things were falling into place for him. Then, hours before he spoke, his PhD advisor had rung him and explained that Jared, fucking  _Jared_ , had published a paper in  _Science_ , that was based on the same theory of machine/cell hybrids that Jensen was about to present. 

Jensen had no choice, he'd had to go on but the applause and questions had been awkward, uncomfortable and totally undermined by Jared's paper. After that it had, unbelievably, got worse. There were debates online and on campuses about who was the originator of the ideas and Jensen's fledgling reputation had been overshadowed by Jared's.  
  
Jensen had been mortified, horrified, upset and incredibly hurt. It was the hurt that eventually made him move to another country and tip headlong back into work, the hurt that triggered his defense of his own position and his anger, and the hurt that drowned his shame. The shame came from knowing he'd been naïve and some of that, still, made him feel foolish and raw, he'd  _trusted_  Jared. He'd never met him or looked into his eyes – he'd never even seen what he looked like until later – but Jensen knew that despite all of that, he'd responded to Jared's warmth and charm and interest like a flower tipping its head towards the sun. Looking back now, Jensen realized that the shame came from the fact that he had started to care what Jared thought, got excited when he heard from him, looked forward to their conversations, all of that, when Jared had just been out for what he could get the whole time.   
  
It wasn't Jared he couldn't forgive, it was himself.  
  
Eventually, he decided that he needed to let it all go. Things had worked out okay and made him more determined and focused. He wasn't the fool he had been and he needed to get over it. His hurt and his shame were largely down to him not Jared. And how could he blame Jared for that? He finally drifted into a shallow, uneasy sleep.  
  
~~~  
  


29th November 2010  
  
The project milestones were set at stages of development and, although this kind of research was not predictable, there were approximate stages that they hoped for. The first one was set for January but the review had to be submitted before Christmas so the Research Committee could sign off the next block of funding. There'd be a more comprehensive review in June and in between times Jared and Jensen were expected to publish on their progress both separately and jointly and give conference papers. Jared also had his lecture tour and Jensen his teaching.  
  
When Jensen saw Jared on Monday morning in the lab, Jared was as well groomed and expensively dressed as ever but he seemed less like the confident, at ease Jared Jensen was used to. He jumped up when he saw Jensen, who was dressed in a pair of worn but warm combats and a long-sleeved T, and poured him a coffee before filling Jensen in on the email updates from Cambridge and Mike.  
  
“Is everything okay?” Jensen asked before blowing on his coffee and taking a sip. He raised his eyebrows in surprise. It was Illy, his favorite blend. Jared watched him with the coffee and smiled. “A peace offering, I guess. And a thank you, for Thanksgiving.” He didn't look away from Jensen and Jensen felt heat blossom in his belly from the way Jared was staring at him.  
  
“You're welcome, it was no trouble.”  
  
“Always so polite Jensen, even when you are angry, you're polite.”  
  
Jensen didn't know quite what to make of that remark, so he shrugged and laughed. “Well brought up, I guess.”  
  
Jared was sitting about a foot away from him in one of the high lab chairs, the coffee between them on the lab bench, and Jared's long legs braced against the floor, the muscle suggested under the close cut denim. Jensen remembered how he'd felt pushing hard against those legs, dick pressing into Jared's powerful thighs.  
  
Jared smoothed his hands along them, drawing Jensen's eye again to his thighs and their apex where his legs were splayed apart and braced against the floor. Jensen had always had a thing for legs. Especially long, strong, shapely legs and he'd bet his trust fund that Jared's legs were gorgeous. He didn't resist this time when he wanted to imagine those legs wrapped around him or twined with his, hairs chafing his skin and making him feel him from hip to ankle. Jensen took a slug of coffee and looked back up at Jared. Who was watching him. With eyes which were dark and dilated.  
  
“I bet you were. I bet you were brought up to say please and thank you, weren't you Jensen?”  
  
Jensen's breath hitched. He could feel blood moving south and his dick thickening in his combats. He shifted on the chair and Jared tracked his movement, licked his lips and leaned in. He wasn't close enough to kiss Jensen, but he was close enough to lower his voice and say: “I know you were Jensen, the perfect Texan gentleman. Is that right?”  
  
And That Voice, it was back and Jensen had to resist the urge to react to the shiver that shot across his skin, cool then hot, at Jared's tone, the way he had to lean forward slightly to hear his words.  
  
“I bet you like to please, Jensen, like to hear how good you are, don't you?”  
  
Jensen swallowed and opened his mouth to say “yeah” for a second time to Jared, when Lauren popped her head into the lab and called out  
  
“Jensen, Professor Morgan's looking for you, something about a funding bid. Said it was important.” Jensen dragged his eyes away from Jared's and nodded and muttered something affirmative to Lauren. She narrowed her eyes at them but disappeared back behind the door as Jensen stood up on slightly shaky legs and put down his mug.  
  
Jared leaned back on his chair and grinned, wide and white, encouraging Jensen to grin back. “Well, seems like we need to finish our chat later, Dr Ackles.”  
  
Jensen made for the door and looked back over his shoulder. Jared was watching his ass again. “It seems so Professor. Later.”  
  
~~~  
  
Over the next few days they stopped sending messages via email and started to discuss things over coffee or over a baguette at lunchtime, sometimes in the Refectory or Senior Common Room at others in their offices. Jared's office was bigger and more modern than Jensen's, looking out from the other side of the campus onto the fountain which sparkled and surged outside the newly built student center. Some of Jared's shipped boxes had arrived and Jensen sat in Jared's steel and leather Eames chair eating roast vegetable pasta salad while Jared knelt and unpacked books onto his shelves and they discussed their December submission to the supervisory committee.  
  
“...but we can't do it then Jensen, we need to finish it before the 10th of December, get it in.”  
  
“The 10th? What's so special about the 10th, we've got until the end of term at least?”  
  
Jensen admired the breadth of Jared's back in the black Armani t-shirt which clung to the contours of his muscles like paint and which lay under the soft grey cashmere V-neck he'd just stripped off. Jensen was hoping for an eyeful of chest when Jared eventually turned around.  
  
Jared stood up, stretched and turned around (“ _Christ”_ thought Jensen). “We've got to get it done before the staff Christmas Party, Jensen; no-one will be interested after that. The lab techs have to get everything ready for the next bacteria tests and the first of the new lasers arrives on the 13th. After that it will be setting everything up before everyone disappears for Christmas.”  
  
Jared took longer than expected but eventually caught on that Jensen wasn't looking at his face. “Jensen, hey, I'm up here.”  
  
Jensen still admired the way the black material clung to Jared's chest and revealed his biceps and golden skin. It was like stumbling into a sunbeam after a chilly wind. All he wanted to do was bask and enjoy it.  
  
Jared came over to the chair and leaned over Jensen, one hand on each arm of the chair. “Are you objectifying me, Dr Ackles?”  
  
“Yeah, I think I am Professor Padalecki. You have a problem with that?” Jensen looked up into his face and Jared's eyes were amused and gleaming.  
  
“Well, it wouldn't be the first time would it Doctor?”  
  
Jensen slid down in the chair slightly and Jared's eyes tracked the movement and grew warm. “Nope.” Jensen rubbed the back of his knuckles over Jared's hand and waited for The Voice.  
  
“Nor the last, I hope. But Jensen?”  
  
There it was, Jensen felt hot liquid slide through his gut. “Yeah, Professor?”  
  
“Next time, I want it to be in a bed. And I want to strip you and have you under me. No interruptions, no distractions. Just you and me. You up for that, Jensen?” Jared flicked a glance at Jensen's mouth and drew his own lips under his teeth and worried at them. Jensen couldn't look away, he wanted to smooth his tongue over the minor hurt and make the lips sore and swollen. He wanted to kiss them until he knew them as well as he knew his own.  
  
He wanted to do lots of things. And he wanted Jared to talk to him in That Voice while he did them.  
  
“Yes.” Jared stood up and Jensen couldn't help but see that Jared's crotch in his jeans was packed and hard. Like Jensen's. Like it was obvious. Like everything was falling into place, again. “Then we better get a move on, if we want to be ready by the 10th, eh?”  
  
And Jensen nodded, tipped his head forward and mouthed warm and soft over Jared's hard on under the denim. Or he would have if Jared hadn't moved away and back to his boxes. Jensen had a lecture anyway but he sighed and started getting his things together.  
  
Jared looked back over his shoulder. Jensen's face must have shown his disappointment because he laughed, rumbly and sexy. “Jensen, don't pull that face. It makes you look about ten. Man, did you forget that the walls of this office are glass?”  
  
Jensen shook his head, “No, I...”   
  
Jared stood again and stepped right up to Jensen. His eyes were more green than brown today and he looked good and smelled better. Jared circled Jensen's wrist with his fingers, and stroked the skin there. “Will you come with me to the Christmas party Jensen? I'm here all alone and someone needs to take pity on me and all? How about it?”  
  
Jensen arched his eyebrow “You're playing the pity card? Really?”  
  
Jared smiled the same private smile he'd shown Jensen at their introduction. “Yep. I have no shame. So will ya?”  
  
What could he say but 'yes'? His mother would be proud.  
  
  
~~~  
7th December 2010  
  
After a night of some serious quiet time debating whether he'd prefer to fantasize about Jared being either shameless or a total exhibitionist tied to his Eames chair, and deciding, what the hell, why not both? Jensen dragged himself into work, sore but kind of satisfied and a bit shamefaced. He felt a little dirty facing Jared after getting off thinking of him, but then again it wasn't exactly a war crime. But he needn't have worried because Tom came into the kitchen when he was making coffee and told Jensen “Jared's gone to Cambridge. He's gone to meet some of the other project people and have a look around. Said he'd be back on Thursday, he's emailed you with his input for the submission and he'll finish it off when he gets back. I'm hoping that makes more sense to you than me, dude.”  
  
Jensen thanked him and frowned over his coffee when he was back in his room. He was not deflated that Jared wouldn't be around for a few days, no, because he had plenty to do. But the thought of sitting in his office on his own all day wasn't as appealing as it used to be. He texted Lauren and arranged to meet her for lunch.  
  
When he met her in the private booth off the main dining area, she was already working her way through a huge hot chocolate with marshmallows, whipped cream and sprinkles, with a giant slice of carrot cake next to her.  
  
Jensen laughed “Well, Miss Cohen, someone need a little sugar rush?” She wiggled her eyebrows and gestured while pointing at her full mouth and laden spoon. It looked so good that Jensen decided he'd have some cake with his coffee – what the hell, it was the season to be jolly – when he came back she was able to talk.  
  
“So Jensen, tell me what that little scene of delight was the other day and don't play dumb. I could smell the pheromones from the hallway.”  
  
“Lauren, that's really....”  
  
“Inappropriate. I know. Couldn't care less. Spill.” The look she gave Jensen was determined and stubborn so he gave in. He did kind of want to talk about it anyway.  
  
“He asked me to the Christmas party. I think ...well, you've seen him right?”  
  
She made a face of mock horror at him. She was lovely but subtle was usually beyond her. “I get he's hot Jensen, God, I like girls and even I've checked him out, but this is PADALECKI Jensen. I thought he was public enemy number one?”  
  
Jensen shrugged and ate a forkful of double chocolate fudge cake. “Mmm. This is good.” Lauren glared at him and made as if to stab his hand with her fork. He snatched it up off the table.  
  
“Okay, Okay. Well. We've sorted that out, I think. Maybe I have a different perspective now?”  
  
“Riiiight, Doc. I'm not judging here, but as long as the perspective is driven by the upstairs brain and not the downstairs one, then fine. I don't know all the details Jensen but I know how you used to look when it was mentioned. I would hate to see you look like that again. You know that right?”  
  
Jensen covered her hand with his and gave it a squeeze: she was sweet and kind enough to care. “I do sweetheart. I'll be careful, I promise.”  
  
She smiled and said “Okay, duty done, have you heard the latest about...”  
  
Jensen settled back to listen to the gossip and enjoy his cake. He had friends, good work and a Christmas party to look forward to. Life was good.  
  
~~~  
  


10th December 2010  
  
Jensen checked his reflection in the mirror for possibly the tenth time. Jared had texted him that he was running a bit late and would meet him at the party. He'd got back from Cambridge late afternoon yesterday and phoned Jensen. He sounded excited after his trip but was focused on getting the submission finished. Jensen had completed his work and he knew Jared would get it done and in, even if it took him all night. He'd learned, in the last couple of months, that Jared took his work very seriously indeed, as seriously as Jensen took his. He admired that, and the way that Jared made everyone around him relax and do their best without letting up on the standards he needed.   
  
He carried on pondering Jared while he walked onto campus and towards the Great Hall, Christmas Trees lit up all along the path and across the campus. The air was icy in his lungs and his dress pants and shirt were unfamiliar these days – he avoided any kind of formal dress when he could – but he felt good. He was looking forward to the evening and to seeing Jared. It had been kind of drab without him around. Funny that.   
  
The Hall was beautiful and candle-lit, but he wasn't really interested in the décor. He put his jacket and scarf in the cloakroom and nodded to colleagues and friends but his night started when he felt someone come up behind him and say. “They your dancing shoes Jensen?” Jared dipped in quickly and kissed the side of his jaw and Jensen felt a flutter in his stomach and a laugh in his throat and after that everything was easy.  
  
They had dinner and enjoyed the raucous stories from their colleagues on their table and when Jamie and Tom got up to dance, Jared waggled his eyebrows at Jensen and soon they were on the dance floor too.  
  
Jared's gaze locked with Jensen’s and something hot and needy flashed behind his eyes. Something hot and needy that made his eyes glitter and his mouth soften. The music was fast and lively but Jared pulled him into his body and swayed against him, both of them oblivious to the glances or smiles from their workmates.   
  
“All our work's done for now Jensen. Submission's in and the labs are shut. Whatever will we do with our time?”    
  
“Not talk about work, that's damn sure.”   
  
Jared shrugged. “If you say so, Doctor.” He held on to Jensen's hips and shifted slightly, their dicks not quite aligning but their pelvis' sweeping against each other with every shuffled step. Jensen knew he was reminding him of their first meeting. Jensen looked into his face and chuckled. “Subtle.”  
  
Jared smiled and the dimples in his cheeks deepened into small divots that Jensen wanted to trace with his finger and press his lips against. If he just leaned forward he'd be able to kiss his neck and touch his skin with his tongue. He felt arousal wash over him and Jared's eyes turned curious. “What are you thinking Jensen?”  
  
Jensen didn't think at all before he blurted out “That I want to lick your neck, your skin. Man. Sorry. Lame, plus over-share. I take it back.”  
  
“You can't. It’s already said. Besides...”  
  
Jensen met his eyes “What?”  
  
“I like it when you talk dirty.” He smiled wide again and Jensen snorted back. God, he hoped no-one was watching them. They were like crushing teenagers.  
  
“Sure you do.”   
  
Jared rolled his eyes at Jensen's response and put his mouth against Jensen's ear. His breath sent cool tremors down his spine.  
  
“This gonna happen Jensen?”  
  
“Looks like it.”  
  
“Good.” 

The soft damp touch of Jared's lips pressed against his neck and Jared scraped his teeth gently along Jensen's skin. Jensen stood perfectly still remembering the kisses of his dream and the kiss at the club: he was afraid to move in case he did something to stop Jared. But Jared kept on going and his teeth nipped lightly and his warm dry palm smoothed around the back of his neck while the thumb stoked under his ear, into the sensitive skin. Jensen grew hard thinking of how he'd like Jared to speak against his ear, whisper his desire there and feel his hiccupping breath against the shell. His own breath stuck in his chest as he waited, his eyelids dropped over his eyes and Jared pulled back, finger still stroking. Jared's other hand nudged up his chin slightly and then Jensen felt a weakness in his knees as Jared's mouth covered his own. His patience had been rewarded and he was light headed, unsteady, as passion roared through him, waking-up everything inside, pouring light into dark corners as he met the slow savoring thrusts of Jared's tongue with sweeps of his own.  
  
Warmth poured in and his toes curled in his shoes, the hairs stood up on his neck and his heart skipped a beat. He thought distractedly _Wow, clichés, all true_ but then his chest got tight and he had to grip Jared's waist to keep from falling; he tilted his head to the side, deepening the kiss. The slick touch of Jared's tongue tasted like coffee and beer and Jensen wanted to eat him up. He heard a moan and knew it was coming from him but he was too occupied with the kiss to care about it.  
  
Jensen stepped back, taking in a few deep breaths before he could make his mouth form the words he needed. It was quite possible that all his mouth wanted to do was kiss Jared's forever, but there was something important he wanted to do so he resisted the undertow of passion and tried to think.. Home, now. He hooked a finger into a belt loop and pulled. “Let's go Jared. Home.”  
  
Jared nodded and dragged a thumb across his cheekbone. “Yeah.”  
  
By the time they were in Jensen's living room, where the low fire was still giving off heat behind the guard, and the lamp threw a soft glow across the room, Jensen was still reeling from the kiss and the way it made him feel. He wanted to examine it, pin it down, classify it but there was no time. Jensen was rushing down a gauntlet and there was danger, possibly too much to risk. He needed his brain to help him get through it alive but his body wanted to drive. It was starting to be a pattern when Jared was involved.  
  
Jared had stripped off his jacket and scarf and tugged Jensen's from his body while he stood there. Then his hands slid round the small of his back and pulled him in, closer. The pressure was gentle enough but insistent and Jensen brought his hips up against Jared's and they both groaned. Their dicks pressed against each other and Jensen's heart started to gallop, banging in his chest as he closed his eyes at the sensation of Jared's hot hard length against him.   
  
“Jensen? Look at me.” Jensen dragged his lids up and looked into Jared's eyes which were dilated with a sliver of dark green around the edge. “I promised you a bed this time. Want to take my time, see everything, get you laid out under me.” Jared’s voice was low, beginning to slur.  
  
Jensen nodded, drunk and slow with heat and desire. He pulled Jared into the hall and up all the steep stairs to his room. The effort of co-ordination did little to distract his body from its focus: both of them; naked, hot skin touching from hip to shoulder and everywhere else he could manage. 

 

This was one of the best parts: the greedy lust before the clothes came off - when a thousand Technicolor images of Jared's body twisted around and inside Jensen's were possible and he couldn't manage to think of anything else except getting what they wanted. Making it happen. Making fantasy into fact and speculation into knowledge by having what he wanted  _right there_ .

Inside his room Jared started to pull Jensen's clothes off, telling him what he'd do to each part of his body as it was revealed to him.  
  
Jensen felt his gut clench and his limbs soften with the lust and need triggered by That Voice. “Oh God, _oh God_ , you're a talker. Shoulda known. Jesus.”  
  
“Yeah, you like that Jensen. Like me telling you? I've thought about all of it, all the things I want to do to you and, gotta be honest, it's a long list.” 

 

Once Jensen was naked, and Jared had nipped and stroked each piece of flesh revealed, Jared pushed him backwards onto the bed. Jensen dug his heels into the covers to shove himself higher up the bed as he watched Jared strip his own clothes with hurried grace, his eyes hot and heavy on Jensen. Jensen couldn't get enough of being looked at like that.

  
“Tell me what you're gonna let me do Jensen.”  
  
Fuck. Jensen felt heat rush over his skin not sure how words worked any more. “I...I ...” Jensen closed his eyes and watched the two figures behind his eyes please one another, legs and arms and mouths all over each other. “..anything. I ...want...anything.”  
  
“No, Jensen you don't get out of it that easy. God, look at you...”  
  
Jared moaned from across the room as Jensen dropped a hand to his dick and stroked it, cupping his balls and widening his legs. He wanted Jared inside him. Jared dropped his own hands and Jensen's eyes followed. Christ. He was beautiful, long, thick and blood heavy, full and straining towards Jensen, like Jensen was magnetic north or something. His dick gleamed and Jensen wanted to swallow it down and taste it, lick around it and oh, God. Jared stroked his own cock and moaned from his chest, the sound raw and unfiltered. “Shit Jensen, yeah, let me see. “  
  
Jared crawled up the bed and slid his hands up Jensen's calves before dropping one back and circling his ankle, then he pushed Jensen's foot up against his ass, giving himself a clear view of Jensen's exposed body. The words carried on even as he dropped Jensen's gaze to stare. Jensen felt like every bit of attention was soothing him and exciting him at the same time, stripping away everything except  _now_  and  _want_ and  _touch_  and yeah, yeah.   
  
“So goddamn gorgeous Jensen. Don't think you can look bad; drunk, tired, hung-over, you're always beautiful. It's fucking distracting. Trying to work but wondering how you'll look when I'm inside you, wondering how easily you'll open up for me and let me in.” He sucked a finger into his mouth and slid it down to Jensen's hole, circling but not pressing in, just enough to make Jensen focus there and have trouble processing Jared's hot, low words. 

 

“Jesus, Jensen, the things I wanna do to you.” 

  
Jared kiss-licked along Jensen’s thigh, his glossy hair falling across his face and tickling Jensen's skin. Jensen just lay there trying to see and feel every glorious minute of having Jared naked against him, in his bed. He looked fucking great there. Impossibly good.  
  
Jared sat back on his heels, then, and dropped his head, one hand still sliding fiery and exciting up his calf, touching around the back of his knee where Jensen fucking loved it. The first time a guy had ever touched him, he'd slid his hand around his knee and stroked his fingers against the soft secret skin of the back and Jensen had nearly come in his pants.  
  
“Jesus.”  
  
“That good? I love your legs Jensen, want them wrapped around me tight.” And then Jared dipped his head and licked across where his fingers were and Jensen felt the simmer under his skin flare into a burn and he pressed into Jared's touch, wanting more. Jared used his thumbs to open him to his gaze and touch and Jensen's legs jerked against the bed as Jared started to lick and taste, making sounds of satisfaction as Jensen quivered and gasped underneath him.   
  
Jared’s words had stopped but Jensen was listening to the other sounds he was making as he pushed his wet tongue inside and worked it in and out, raising goose bumps across Jensen’s skin and making his muscles clutch at nothing but Jared's darting tongue.   
  
“More, Jared. Gimme more.” Jared licked and sucked, making Jensen wet and loose, heat spiraling through him and need grabbing at his belly. “Yeah, you ask so pretty Jensen, knew you'd be like this. All sweet manners and polite even when you're leaking and desperate. Tell me what you want Jensen. More what? C'mon, can't usually get you to shut up when you're feeling something...”  
  
“Fingers....want you inside...” Jensen felt like everything he needed was in the bed and nothing else mattered. The house could come down about their ears and he wouldn't care as long as Jared stopped with the teasing and ... _Oh God, yes_. Jared slid two fingers into Jensen making him groan and gasp as he pressed against Jensen's flesh and parted his fingers, working him open and letting him jab his tongue in dirty and sloppy around them. Jared shifted and lifted his head up, taking his weight onto his folded legs and letting him pull back and see Jensen. The move made his fingers slip out and Jensen twisted and panted. “Don't stop...”  
  
“Not gonna Jensen”, and Jared pushed the fingers in, again, this time twisting and pressing until he stroked against Jensen's prostate and Jensen jerked up into the touch, pushing hard against the pressure and earning a sexy, pleased groan from Jared whose eyes were flickering from his fingers plunging into Jensen to Jensen's face where he was watching Jensen thrash and twist with wanting.  
  
“Not gonna stop Jensen. Gonna keep going until I'm done.”  
  
God, he was gorgeous. Dark and smooth, heated, slick skin pressing and sliding against Jensen and making delicious friction wherever they touched from the scrape of his cheek against Jensen's inner thigh to the soft bites against his hip as he worked his fingers inside stoking pleasure along his limbs, curling and building in his muscles and hips.   
  
The Voice was rough and growling now “Wanted to see you like this Jensen. Every time you looked at me all hot and prickly and sexy as hell, every time you pretended not to watch me and I could feel your eyes on me, I knew this what was you wanted.“ With his free hand Jared curled his fingers around Jensen's cock, thick and leaking against his palm and jerked him smoothly, smearing his pre-come around the head and making Jensen bite out “Harder. Please. Jared.”  
  
Jared soothed him with “’Kay, don't worry, I'll get you there.”  
  
“Lube, Jensen?” Jensen gestured at his bedside drawer and Jared slipped his fingers loose and reached over. He tossed the lube and condoms on the bed and looked at Jensen. Jensen wanted a greedy feast of everything at once and he almost mewled at Jared to get on with it. His body didn't know which direction to pull him in. His ass felt empty and loose, ready for Jared, his mouth was wet and he wanted to feel that rigid hardness pressing against his tongue, bursting into his mouth, but he also wanted to soak up that stare, the absolute attention, all that focus and passion directed at him, laid out and needy on the bed. Fucking hell, his heart flip-flopped and nothing had ever felt this exciting before. 

 

Jared smiled that familiar small curved smile and Jensen opened his mouth to speak as Jared slipped Jensen's leg over his shoulder and bit firmly at his calf, then he plunged his fingers back into Jensen and Jensen forgot what he wanted to ask. He managed to hiss out “C'mon Jared, don't tease.”

“Me? Tease? You've been teasing me for months Jensen, tantalizing me, hot then cold then hot again.” With each word he stroked against the bundle of nerves and pleasure ricocheted through Jensen and became almost unbearable. This wasn't gonna happen like this; Jensen wanted Jared inside, now. 

Jensen pulled away from Jared's long strong fingers and sat up. He grabbed a condom and tore the packet open as he slid his hands around Jared. Jared laughed and said “Pushy, pushy” but seemed quite happy to let Jensen drive for the moment. Jensen felt the weight of Jared's balls and said “fuck” as he wrapped his fingers around Jared's velvety cock and stroked the condom on, working it down to the bottom of his shaft and then swiped lube around it with his flexing hand. Jared slid his arm around Jensen's shoulder and his hand into his hair to pull him close. “God, yeah, like that” he pushed his tongue into Jensen's mouth and jerked his hips into the touch before panting and pulling back. “Jensen if I don't get the fuck inside you right now... On your back.” and Jensen collapsed back onto the bed smirking with satisfaction that they were on the same page. 

“Yeah, Jared. C'mon.”

Jared pushed Jensen's heels back against his thighs and pulled his hips up against his own. Jensen arched against him.

“So hot Jensen, so fucking hot, want to feel you …” and he pushed himself into Jensen.

Jensen felt Jared's solid cock open him up wider than his questing fingers, more firmly, long and scalding hot, searing fire right into him, giving him that warmth again. Jensen wrapped himself around it, satisfaction in every drag of his muscles against it. Jared stilled for a moment and kissed his neck, his collarbone and his chest, sliding a tongue across his pebbled nipple. Jensen raised his hands to pull him closer where he rested inside him but instead Jared straightened his massive arms and supported his weight. Their gazes met and Jared waited for Jensen to open his eyes fully and when he did Jared started to move his hips. His thighs chafed against Jensen's and his slow rhythm gave Jensen time to fully stretch around him. Jensen was filled completely and he was absorbed by Jared's grip, thrust, stare and hold. He couldn't look away: he didn't want to.

Jared pushed the wide head of his cock into Jensen and each slow slide out made Jensen ache, Jared's black pupils watching every expression. Jensen moaned and lifted his hips into Jared's thrusts, wanting him faster, harder, and uncontrolled.

Jared whispered. “You feel incredible. So good.” He reached out and traced his fingers from his shoulder across his nipple down his taut side and into the crease of his hip. “You can have it, just gotta ask...”

Jensen felt words rush up into his throat when he gritted his teeth and writhed, looking up at Jared's broad-shouldered splendor, his hair disheveled, his muscles knotted and covered in gleaming satin skin. “Jared. Fuck. Me.”

Jared pulled most of the way out, shifted his balance and then fucked hard into Jensen. The flames under Jensen's skin rose and he gasped and shuddered his approval as Jared fucked into him, steady and strong. Each thrust felt better than the last and Jensen wanted to absorb everything about the moment but there was no room for anything _except more_  and  _god harder, yes_. Jared's breathing was deep and his words were gone, lost in concentration. In and out. Faster, harder, more. Jensen couldn't breathe, the pleasure was fucking fantastic and just when his scattered brain cells gave in, Jared placed a hand under his ass, lifted his hips and drove in deeper. “Jared. Fuck. Don't...don't stop...”

“Won't...open your eyes...want to see it, c'mon...”

And fuck That Voice. Jensen could listen to that drawling, commanding, voice telling him what to do, sultry, low and the sexiest thing he'd ever heard. He looked up and Jared was staring at him again. “So beautiful, Jensen. Knew you'd be like this, want you...”

He opened his mouth and dragged Jared's head down and kissed him, mouth open and his tongue thrusting in and out, and everything tightened up, heat in his belly, iron in his muscles and his body arched up into the fucking that was more, that was reaching inside to the locked places and forcing light and warmth into them. 

Jared swore and praised until he slid his arms under Jensen's arms and sank his fingers into his hair, pulled his head back and thrust, his stomach muscles hard against Jensen's cock. His hips jerked faster, slamming into Jensen until they were both coming and Jared was swelling, unbelievably, inside Jensen and warm come was sliding between them, gloriously, as Jensen's dick pulsed and throbbed and he thought he might just die from fucking.

“Jesus, Jensen.” Jared rested his head against Jensen's chest and sprawled with his legs tangled around Jensen's as he stayed inside while they came back to themselves. Jared stroked one hand down his hip as they listened to each other's heartbeat shift from thunder to steady drum.

Jared lifted himself up and pulled out, tying off the condom and looking around for somewhere to put it. Jensen laughed and said “Just drop it on the floor. I'll deal with it later.” 

Jared laughed weakly “Jensen you really are a messy bastard. Good thing you're so hot or …”

“What? You complaining already, Jay?” The words slipped out and Jensen looked away. 

“Oh, a nickname now. When do I get the teddy bear?” 

Jensen slapped at Jared's shoulder. “Fuck you.” 

Jared laughed and wiped his sweaty forehead across Jensen's shoulder. 

“Ewwww. Gross. And I repeat: Fuck you.”

“Well, gotta say, just done all the work. Looks like it’s your turn to show me what you've got.” Jared stroked his hand across Jensen's stomach and unbelievably Jensen's dick twitched. Jensen propped himself on his elbows and looked at Jared, whose smile was generous and teasing.

“You figure?”

Jared leaned on one arm and he was big and strong and naked in Jensen's bed. “Absolutely.”

Jensen shoved at him with his foot and he turned onto his back. Jensen straddled him. 

“Then I guess it’s your lucky night.”   
  
[Part Four](http://bornof-sorrow.livejournal.com/78011.html)   
  



	4. A Bold Guess Rewrite Part Four NC17

Title details [here](http://bornof-sorrow.livejournal.com/76806.html) 

[Part Three](http://bornof-sorrow.livejournal.com/77623.html)

Bold Guess (Redux) Part Four

The next day, Jensen couldn't stop himself from smiling. Eventually Jared had left for his own place and Jensen had gone back to sleep, dragging himself out of bed for a drink. He stood in his bedroom sipping OJ looking around him and remembering what they'd done on or over each piece of bedroom furniture, finally, still grinning, Jensen gave himself a mental shake and logged on. He hadn't spoken to Mike for a while and he needed to get some feedback on a paper he'd sent him to read through.  
  
Mike didn't come on line until late. Jensen was working on some algorithms when he logged on.  
  
 **LXLTHR** : Hey, J.  
  
 **IRN MN** : Hey man.  
  
 **LXLTHR** : What's happening with the project then? How you gonna work it with Jared?  
  
For a moment Jensen's heart thudded in his chest. Man, how did Mike know about Jared? Had the world gone mad and he'd found a way to watch Jensen. Man, creepy and...Okay, ridiculous. Jensen laughed to himself. News didn't travel that fast.  
  
 **IRN MN** : What u talking about?  
  
 **LXLTHR** : When he goes to Cambridge, y'know for the Chair?  
  
 **IRN MN** : What??  
  
 **LXLTHR** : Just heard from Tony Deschel there. He was on the interview panel. Specializes in Human /Computer Interfaces. Said Padalecki's insights from the joint project were amazing and his projections for the research you're doing were...  
  
 **IRN MN** : Wait Mike. You're saying that the Jared Padalecki who's here on a research fellowship has won a Chair at Cambridge?  
  
 **LXLTHR** : Amazing isn't it? Makes him the youngest Prof since...  
  
 **IRN MN** : Newton, yeah. What's the Chair?  
  
 **LXLTHR** : Service and Support, Cognitive Systems Engineering.  
  
 **IRN MN** : You absolutely sure?  
  
 **LXLTHR** : Yep, horse’s mouth dude. They offered it ….it'll be yesterday your time.  
  
 **IRN MN** : Thanks. Gotta go. Later.  
  
Jensen couldn't believe it. 

He ran over the information from Mike, forcing himself to examine each piece of data, forcing himself to check that there was just no other conclusion to come to. He could feel his blood pounding in his ears so hard he thought he’d bust something.

He jumped up and paced about the room, trying to contain the tension and pain hurtling through him.

Man, he'd fell for it – the charm, the heat between them, the flattering attention and interest - and that fucking bastard had made a fool of him.  _Again_. He could feel his temper rising and the thought of stewing over the whole thing until the next day or even worse, Monday, was completely crap. Fuck it. He dragged on a pair of jeans and picked a sweatshirt off the floor, then shoved his feet into sneakers before snatching his keys.   
  
He was out the door and halfway down the road before the cold hit him and he realized he'd not picked up his jacket. Fucking probably end up with pneumonia and then the fucking bastard could take credit for the whole project too. Why not? He had form in that kind of double-dealing shit. He must've laughed his ass off at how easy Jensen had been to get round. A few coffees, a bit of attention. Shit, shit, shit.

 

Jensen’s l humiliation scorched his skin, radiating off him to the extent he could hardly feel the cold. His mind flew from their work, to the project, to the department, to...to...images of Jared smiling at him, kissing him, fucking him, making him beg and plead for it and No, No, No. Just.  _No_ .

He'd never been to Jared's place but he knew where it was. It was a modern apartment in a Victorian mansion house and it was about two blocks away from Jensen's place and not too far from the campus. Jared had laughed about the walk in shower and how there was room enough for two. The way Jensen felt right now the only way he'd get to share it with Jared was when he washed the blood off his cold, dead body.  
  
When Jensen got there someone was coming out so he slid through the door and pounded up the stairs, adrenaline flooding his body, as he went into the square landing between the apartments on each floor. He hammered on Jared's door and pretended it was Jared's smarmy fucking, smiling face. It was late, Jensen didn't know how late but he didn't give a shit, so he kept on hammering and after a few minutes Jared jerked the door open.  
  
“What the fuck, man....Jensen? What's up?” He was dressed in boxers and a t-shirt and he looked sleep mussed. Yeah, that was right; he was probably worn out after fucking Jensen all night long.  
  
“You fucking lying, sneaky bastard. How were you gonna explain it away this time, Jared? Another aw-shucks 'honest mistake'? How long where you gonna wait before you went off into the sunset with everyone's work?”  
  
Jared threw the door open and grabbed Jensen by the shoulder. “What? Come in man, you'll wake everyone up.”  
  
“I don't give a flying fuck who I wake up, you asshole. I want everyone to know what an absolute fucking bastard you are.”  
  
“Hey! I can tell you're upset Jensen, but don't talk to me like that man, just don't.”  
  
Jensen stormed into the living room. The lamp was lit and there was a  _New Scientist_  open on the sofa, a pile of books on the floor and Jared had obviously fallen asleep while reading. Jensen turned to face Jared.  
  
“So Cambridge Chair at, what, 32 Jared? Fucking amazing eh? What you planned all along? Using the department as your stepping stone and me – you must have laughed your ass off at me - I fell for it for the second time. Jesus fucking Christ.”  
  
Jared held up his hands in a calm down gesture that made Jensen even more spitting mad. He did not need to be managed or handled. Jesus. “Man, could you curse more if you tried and what the hell are you talking about? Stealing whose work? How did you hear about the Chair? It's not...”  
  
“That's what you're worried about? Your bloody reputation? And fuck you, I'll swear as much as I want to, you dick.”  
  
“Hey! I've warned you about that now back off and calm down. Let's talk about this...” He tried to walk past Jensen to head towards the sofa and Jensen saw red. He felt every bit of shame, hurt and humiliation that he'd felt the first time and it was doubled, redoubled and cut him even more deeply this time. His momma had a saying, “Fool me once, more fool you, fool me twice, more fool me.” Well, more fool him, but Jared had it coming too. He lashed out and hit Jared hard across his cheekbone. Jared's head snapped back and he staggered amazement all over his face. Jensen felt a flash of shame and horror but then his temper pushed it away and he carried on with his rant.  
  
“What kind of man are you? You are clever, brilliant even. You don't need to do any of this: steal ideas, lie, sneak about, why can't you just be straight up?”  
  
Jared's face was grim and flushed, his cheek was flaming and swelling as Jensen watched. His hands were clenched and he was obviously trying to hold on to his temper. “I am straight up. I wanted to tell you about the Chair but-.”  
  
“Save it Jared. I get it. If you'd told me, chances were you wouldn't get me into bed, so you kept quiet. Well good for you-”  
  
“Shut. The. Fuck. Up. Who do you think you are talking to, you arrogant prick? Get you into bed? Well, you sure are pretty Jensen and you fuck like a dream but scheming to get laid? I'm not 14 and, by the way, I don't have to try that hard or had you forgotten the first time we had sex? Yeah, instigated by you Jensen. Didn't have to do much then did I? Except stand still and let you.” Jared drew in a breath and his chest heaved while he glared at Jensen.  
  
“Great, so I'm a pushy slut now?” Jared made a growl of annoyance and rubbed both hands through his hair. “Okay then, if that wasn't it, what did you have to promise to get the Chair, Professor? Did you make out the work was all yours? You know you have to credit the intellectual property to this university anyway...”  
  
“Actually, I don't, but seems the facts don't matter to you. But before you leap further into fantasy and construct another conspiracy theory of epic proportions, let me explain-”  
  
“No, fuck you. I fell for your explanation last time and it's not gonna happen again. No. You have a way of making black white and most people would believe you if you told 'em day was night. Well go you. I bet your momma's proud.”  
  
Jared exploded then and kicked the pile of books across the floor. He stood for a moment with his back to Jensen and his hands on his hips, clearly trying to gather his control. Jensen felt guilty again for a split second before Jared turned around. Gone was any trace of the Jared Jensen knew – or thought he knew. His face was dark and flushed red and his mouth was a hard, tight line. He came up into Jensen's face. Jensen refused to take a step back and squared up to him.  
  
“Now you listen to me, you over-privileged dickhead. You know nothing about my family or what would make my momma proud. But yeah, she is proud of me and I'm fucking proud of me too. Unlike you, with your trust fund and your ever so impressive, clever family I didn't have my life planned out for me from birth. I didn't have the pampered upbringing that you clearly did to make you into the arrogant, self-centered douche that you are. I worked for everything Jensen. Every scholarship, every connection, every bit of research funding because you know what? Without it I wouldn't be here. No-one was standing ready to endow a fucking library to get me in somewhere or subsidize me while I took jobs without pay just to get experience or use their connections to make the right kind of contacts on the right kind of projects. And while we're being honest, let me get something else off my chest. I've felt bad about this for years but not anymore. Y'know, the research thing? I  _did_  use some of your ideas. It was wrong and I know it, but you know what? I knew I had to do it, get there first, because if I didn't you'd do it Jensen. And the difference was that for you there'd be other chances and for me there wouldn't. I needed to make a name and I needed it then. You won't believe me, but I did have similar ideas but I was struggling to fit it all together until you came along. And what you had was so beautiful, so simple and elegant that everything else slotted into place. So yeah, Jensen, I was a shit then, but I'd never do it again. I don't need to, whatever your paranoia believes. “  
  
Jensen was shocked and stunned and he took a pace back, mouth slack and eyes wide. Jared stepped towards him and all the anger seemed to seep away from Jared with that one action. He looked upset, pissed off and ...sad.  
  
“I wanted to tell you about the Chair and it's not what you think, but we've both said enough for tonight. Goodnight Jensen. Shut the door on your way out.” And Jared simply walked away into another room and closed the door. 

 

Jensen felt shaky and cold and started to walk and he didn't stop until he was back in his house.

  
~~~  
  
When Jensen woke up on the sofa the next morning he was freezing cold and his head was throbbing. When he got home he'd opened a bottle of Jack and knocked back a few shots, waiting for the draining adrenaline to go and not even trying to make sense of his chaotic thoughts. He'd crawled onto the sofa and slept. He wished he could go back to sleep again. Nothing about this day was going to be good.  
  
When he moved his body ached. His knuckles were split and bruised and he groaned when he remembered what he'd done. Shit. His thighs and arms hurt too, and his ass. He groaned again when he realized that his sore stiff muscles were because of the sex with Jared. Had that only been thirty hours or so? Everything had turned to crap real quick.   
  
He staggered to the bathroom and ran a bath while he rummaged for painkillers and drank as much water as he could stomach. He winced when he stepped into the steamy bath and his limbs stung where the hot water forced heat back into his blood, the blood vessels throbbing in his toes and fingers.  
  
He couldn't believe he'd hit Jared. As bad as his temper was, that wasn't like him. He didn't lash out nor should he: violence was never an answer. Jared's words reverberated in his mind and every time he thought about any of it his mind skittered away. He counted the bathroom tiles on the walls three times before he gave up and got out of the cooled water. He looked at his desk when he was toweling off and he couldn't face work. It would only remind him of everything he didn't want to deal with.  
  
In the end he built up a fire, pulled a blanket over him and dozed on the sofa. He was exhausted and he welcomed sleep. He dreamed swirling dreams where he could only move slowly and everything was just out of reach. His mind flashed back to childhood achievements and adult mistakes and in the midst of it was Jared with that terrible look on his face like everything was ashes. Jensen supposed it was.  
  
~~~  
  


13th December – Last week of Term  
  
Jensen had never wanted to go to work less in his life but he'd never been a coward and he wasn't going to begin now. He'd always prided himself on his manners and his achievements but he'd never considered how they might appear to others. Jared's words had struck a nerve – that _was_ arrogant of Jensen.

 

Jensen had laid on his couch thinking about the degree of privilege in his upbringing. He recognized that demanding others share his high expectations of behavior and conduct was both self-centered and judgmental, but he didn't shirk those standards in his own conduct. Plus, he'd never lied or cheated to get anything and, privilege aside, most of that was because he was always prepared to work extremely hard to make things happen. He hadn't cut any corners there, so he refused to feel bad about it, and Jared could just go fuck himself. 

Jared had cheated and hurt him. He'd struck Jared and made assumptions. He realized he owed Jared an apology for hitting him. That still left him with his confused feelings over everything else. He didn't expect to work everything out in one go, so he focused on showing up and dealing with the day.  
~~~  
  
After coffee in his room (it was a tactical retreat not hiding) he dragged himself along to Jeff's office at ten thirty for a new meeting in his diary. When he went in Jeff was behind his desk and Jared was in one of the chairs in front. Jeff greeted him and gestured to the other chair. Jensen didn't look at Jared but he could feel his eyes on him.  
  
“Jensen, we wanted you to be the first to know: Jared has been offered a Chair in the Engineering Department at Cambridge. When he takes up the role in 2012 he will, just about, be the youngest professor in their history – with the obvious exception of Newton, of course. Now, before you ask, he is expected to complete his work here with us as a pre-condition to the offer and you both are expected to win the Lever Hulme prize for research in Engineering. Jared has already agreed that the prize fund will go to you. We both think that you deserve lead author credit for the machine hybrid work, Jared for the laser refinements. That will give you both some welcome research funding but of course the profile is what we are looking for. Now...”  
  
Jensen barely heard the rest of Jeff's plans for the project or his delighted feedback on how well they were working together. All Jensen could think was  _2012_? Jared wasn't going until 2012? And lead author...? Prize fund? What the fuck made Jared think they were his decisions to make?  
  
Jensen wanted to cringe at the huge yawning hole that was the gulf between the facts and his assumptions about them when he'd stormed round to Jared's house. He glanced at Jared and was horrified to see a rich blue purple bruise under his eye. He looked like he'd been hit in the face by a lunatic and Jensen knew he was the lunatic in question. Jared only looked at him briefly and barely smiled at Jeff. When the meeting was over Jared said he was late for another meeting and left quickly. 

 

Back in his own office Jensen paced.

Every time he thought about the bruise, he cringed. Every time he thought about Jared's fucking lead author spiel he wished he'd hit him harder. From their first run in to their latest, there was a pattern of Jared going right ahead and making decisions that weren't just his to make and he had the balls to call Jensen arrogant!

 

Jensen knew he sometimes liked some manhandling with his sex and yeah, he was all for a toppy guy but he wasn't a fucking child and where did Jared get off on assuming the moral high ground? His mind whirred away trying to make sense of it all, but he couldn’t square everything; it was too much on top of the tired and angry.

 

Jensen went for a walk. A very long one until his head was clear and his blood thumped steady and then he headed to Jared's office.

~~~~

~~~

 

In the Student Services Building, the floor was busy and there were still students bustling about and dropping off assignments, chatting in hallways about Christmas plans and generally reminding Jensen that he was too miserable to even contemplate Christmas. He didn't know much about Jared's plans but he didn't want him to leave before he'd apologized.

He waited outside while Jared was taking a call, leaning back in his chair and laughing with whoever was on the other end of the line. When he finished the call he stood up and stretched and it was such a familiar move that Jensen felt a pang of something acute and biting in his chest. Then Jared noticed him and straightened up abruptly, staring right at him for the space of a few seconds before he opened his door and said “Come in, Doctor Ackles.”  
  
At that title Jensen's heart sunk a little lower under his ribs and he was nearly breathless with unexpected disappointment and loss, although anger and annoyance also spiked his head up and his back straight. He felt his eyes prick and bit his tongue hard to focus on what he had to do.  
  
“Professor, I've come to apologize to you. It was totally unacceptable of me to strike you and I offer no excuses. It was absolutely uncalled for and I apologize for my behavior. I hope you will consider that I have never struck anyone before and will never do so again.”  
  
Jared's arms were folded tight across his chest but he opened his mouth. Jensen gestured to stop him and went on. “Also, the things I said: I made some assumptions that were not based on any reality that I now recognize and I leveled accusations at you that were unfounded. I was wrong to act in the way I did and it won't happen again. 

Jensen took a deep breath and continued.   


“But. You were totally out of order in three areas: you took credit for ideas that were not solely yours and failed to attribute them; you made decisions that should have been joint ones, alone, without discussion and with no regard for the impact on the work of others; and you continue to do so. Before you take up your Chair I suggest you find a dictionary and look up the following words as I am sure you will find the exercise instructive: plagiarism, arrogance and son-of-a-bitch.”

This time Jared jumped up out of his chair and came around the desk but Jensen hadn't finished: “I hope that despite this incident, we can continue to work together and our professional relationship is not compromised any more than it is already. Thank you for your time.” Jensen didn't give Jared a chance to speak before he turned and left frustration and anger hanging over him like a small black cloud of gloom.   
  
Now all he had to do was find a way to not want Jared. And find a way to not think about him. And somehow, over Christmas, find a way to not miss him, even when he was standing next to him.  
  
~~~

 

On Tuesday, after a heavy night of beer-fuelled ranting and recrimination in the company of Tom, Jensen traipsed to his office to grab a few papers to work on over the holiday.

On the wooden floor outside his door were a large catering size tin of Illy and six boxes of Jaffa Cakes. Jensen stared at them blankly. When he managed to unlock the door and shuffle the boxes into the office with his feet, he found an envelope with his name on in blocky print: _Jensen._ __

Jensen shoved the door shut and sat in his armchair, tapping the envelope against his thigh for a few minutes before he opened it.

_ Jensen, _ __

_ I didn't tell you about the Chair because I wanted to get the submission in on time. The appointing panel wanted to see it before they confirmed and I didn't get a chance to tell Jeff 'til yesterday. I thought I had some time to tell you myself, explain about the strings attached and the timing. That was a bad call but it wasn't part of a nefarious plan. Don't think that Jensen. _ __

_ I thought it was obvious you'd be lead author on the recent programming work. _ __

_ I did look up plagiarism, like you said. I've thought long and hard about this and there may have been “unattributed materials” in my work back then. _ __

_ Was it my intention to deceive then? No. It wasn't pre-existing, published work, either. You think I'm trying to dodge the bullet, but I am trying to explain how it happened, what I thought. _ __

_ From the present perspective of greater experience and what I know, now, about you, it seems unbelievably crass, but then I thought you had your work, I had mine, you could publish and do what you wanted and so could I. Yeah, I was competitive and stupid, dangerously naive. I made my plans and didn't ask about yours. I get that you think that we should have discussed it and maybe come to some arrangement, but those were your expectations, not mine. It never occurred to me Jensen. _ _ _

__

_ I've re-read what I've written and it sounds like I am being arrogant and dismissive. I'm trying to be honest and not hide behind excuses. The fact is that I am unlike you in many, many ways. I don't think like you and I certainly don't behave the way you think I should. But, despite our recent substantial differences, I hope you believe that I meant what I said at Thanksgiving: I wouldn't behave like that again. I am sorry I did it then, and sorry it hurt you.  _ _

 

_

_ Arrogance: overbearing pride evidenced by a superior manner towards inferiors. I doubt anyone could mistake you for an inferior Jensen but I take your point. I recognize that in pushing ahead I've acted arrogantly. I did plan to discuss these things with you but that was an arrogant assumption in itself. I see that. I was arrogant at 23 and I guess I still am, but I hope you will accept my apology for behaving this way recently. I need to learn that my way is not the only way.  _ __

_ Son-of-a-bitch: a person (especially a man) who you strongly dislike or hate. I got the definition loud and clear from your face, Jensen. _

__

_ I don't know what to say. Everything I start to write is the wrong thing. I can't believe how fast things turned to crap, from being so good. _ _

 

_

_ I fucked up. I am sorry. I know it's not that easy. _ __

_ Jared. _ __

Jensen read the letter though, and then again. He sat in the armchair and contemplated his room, the piles of work, the mess and the gifts from Jared. He wondered how long Jared had thought about those and what he'd written.

He could picture Jared writing away, head bent, bangs hiding his face, leaning forward over his desk, focused and determined – the way he'd seen him do a hundred tasks. But Jensen didn't know if Jared had talked to anyone about the letter; he didn't know if he'd paced or struggled or agonized in writing it, in trying to fix the fuck up between them. Jensen didn't know that much about Jared, really, yet in some ways he knew the best and worst. His head ached from trying to square the circle, make everything fit.

Fuck it. He picked up the gifts and trudged home. No reason to waste good coffee. __

~~~  
  
24th December 2010  
  
“No mom, I'm just so busy. I might head to Morocco, catch some winter sun.”  
  
Jensen listened to his mom try to persuade him, for the tenth time, to join them in Aspen, but Jensen stuck to his guns.  
  
“Mom, there's someone at the door. Gotta go. Yeah, love you too. Speak to you in the New Year.”  
  
Jensen put the phone down and slumped into the den of books, blankets and Jaffa Cakes he'd constructed on the sofa. Truth was he was far too miserable and mopey to be any kind of company for his family.  
  
When he had that letter from Jared he hoped that, given a bit of space, Jared might come and see him before the end of term, but it hadn't happened. 

 

He still didn't know what to do about the plagiarism.

He'd kept that to himself. Part of him felt vindicated and angry but there was so much to be achieved now, so much they could progress he didn't want to do what he'd have done a few months before and force a public retraction or something equally dramatic. He went round in circles with it all and he knew was he was waiting for: Jared. He was waiting to look him in the eye and see what was there: then Jensen might know what he needed to do.

The lack of resolution one way or the other meant he'd sometimes wandered, casually, across the campus to see if Jared was there anyway, what with the glass walls and all. He'd found excuses to go the long way round campus in the sleety rain before yet another sight of the unlit, empty office made him feel even more pathetic, unhinged and stalkerish than before. Tom had finally staged an intervention and dragged him to coffee with Lauren and the two of them had listened to his angst. Faced with Tom's uncomfortable silence and Lauren's frown of concern he realized again quite how fucked up things were.

 

When he'd stood up to leave, Tom had given him a heartfelt hug which made him want to bawl like a baby. Since then he'd manfully hidden in this pity pit and watched crap on TV. Tom and Jamie had tried to get him to spend Christmas with them but he hadn't finished licking his wounds. They'd dropped off a huge box off groceries and goodies and his folks had sent him a hamper, so he wouldn't starve.

He must've dozed off because he woke up to a buzzing from the doorbell and darkness lit only by the low orange fire. He untangled himself from his pit and hobbled to the door, pins and needles setting fire to his leg where it had been curled underneath him.  
  
When he opened the door, Jared was standing there. He was dressed in dark jeans and his pea-coat with a knitted hat pulled low on his head. The shoulders of his jacket were wet with the thick falling sleet and there were raindrops in his hair. “Hello, Jensen.”

 

Jensen tried not to weep at how edible he looked and managed, “Hello Jared.”

He opened the door wide and invited Jared in. He walked past Jensen on the way into the living room and he smelled of rain, wind and outdoors but also masculine and spicy. Jensen closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath, the scent jolting hot memories of Jared's skin into Jensen's brain.  
  
In his living room Jared seemed taller and more compelling than ever and it was so good to see him, whatever the reason, that Jensen smiled at him, although his stomach jerked with nerves.  
  
Although Jared didn't look like his usual composed and relaxed self nor did he look like a guy who was gonna declare undying love and make everything better. Jensen steeled himself for a polite “let's-work-things-out-for-the-sake-of-work-chat” though he had never felt less interested in work in his life. 

They stood looking awkwardly at each other for a long moment. Then Jared spoke.  
  
“When you came round to my house that night, you said something and I want to know what you meant.”  
  
Jensen couldn't think what that could be but he nodded “Okay.”  
  
Jared pulled off his hat and ran his hands through his hair which made it stick up at angles all over his head. Even like that he was gorgeous and Jensen wished he'd worked on time travel instead of computer science because then, maybe, they'd have a chance to go back and fix things.  
  
“You said you fell for it for the second time. What did you mean Jensen?”  
  
Jensen opened and closed his mouth a couple of times while Jared simply stood there watching him steadily. “I...I meant...that...I thought you'd stolen my ideas for the second time.” Jensen looked at his feet.  
  
“Bullshit, Jensen. Tell me what you really meant. Please.” Jared's voice was soft, not quite neutral.  
  
Jensen's head jerked up and he could feel himself blushing red, the wave of heat rising through his chest, neck and cheeks until he felt like a beacon of discomfort.  
  
There was silence for a long moment and Jensen squared his shoulders and looked up into Jared's eyes. “I meant that I trusted you and believed in you the first time and then again the second time. It was all projection on my part, obviously, but it hurt, Jared. Both times. That's what I meant.”  
  
Jared nodded and let out a breath. “Yeah, that's what I thought it might be. “  
  
He stared at Jensen and Jensen wondered what he was looking for and what he saw. All he knew was that he had no defense against Jared. He could dress it up and justify it, blame it on other things but what it came down to was that Jared affected him, whether he liked it or not and Jensen had no clue how to change that or whether he wanted to.  
  
Jared eventually spoke and, with a bright flare of hope, Jensen heard a note of uncertainty in his voice. He held his breath.  
  
“Two things Jensen: one, I am really sorry I hurt you. Back then, I was selfish and ruthless and I didn't think about anyone but myself. I'm not like that now, or I'm trying not to be. Which means I had no right to say some of the things I did, the blame was definitely mine; two: will you come to church with me?”   
  
“ _Church_ ?” What?

“Yeah, y'know. Carols and readings and all that stuff. Third generation Polish Catholic here, Jensen.”

Jensen thought about that for a minute. He thought about the letter and Jared standing in his living room. “Yeah, okay.”

~~~   
Soon they were strolling across campus towards the chapel. The houses on the edge of campus had brightly lit displays of everything from tasteful icicles and stars to fat jolly Santa’s, comical reindeers and impossibly smiley snowmen. There was the occasional “Santa Stop Here” sign and display of cut- out snowflakes pasted across a window. Jensen remembered making those as a kid with his brother. The lodge for the Campus Policemen was lit up with the dim light of the pc's and monitors and across the windows were jaunty paper chains creating a festive oasis in the sleety rain and dark. The fountain was back lit by purple and red light and the water made high arcs of light like jewels against the navy velvet of the sky.

They didn't speak much. Jared said “You know we gotta talk, right?” and Jensen nodded. “Later.”  
  
It was that time on Christmas Eve when people were retreating into their homes with their families and the sense of otherness of Christmas was starting. Jared strode long-legged in jeans and boots towards the lights of the Student Services building and they crossed the path of the odd overseas student and local crossing the campus to short cut to the stores on the main street. They walked through the bright lit interior, down a corridor to the chapel.  
  
The chapel was gorgeous. Modern and airy with seven beautiful floor to ceiling abstract stained glass windows in shades of sapphire, ruby, emerald, topaz and garnet. The candlelight made everything feel hushed and sacramental, welcoming. It was full of local families, some staff and students. The excited hushed chatter of children countered the incense laden air and the formality of the celebrants: one priest and five altar servers.  
  
Jensen was slightly uncomfortable but Jared went to a row of chairs, genuflected and made the sign of the cross before taking his seat and passing a hymn book and missal to Jensen. He pointed at the missal for the mass and turned to the first song.  
  
“Away in a Manger” warbled out of the speakers and the organist opened the hymn with a strident arrangement on the eighty-pipe organ. Jensen remembered his childhood Christmas's at home – how it hadn't felt like Christmas until they had attended service and how he'd not even thought of that for the last nine years, so absorbed had he been in his research and getting where he needed to be. In the peaceful warmth Jensen wondered if they could work it all out: seemed like Jared wanted another chance. He hoped so. There was so much possibility between them; he wanted to see where it would lead, personally and professionally.  He was gonna make Jared work for it though, damn straight.  
  
He looked up at Jared who smiled wide and dimpled back at him and who slid one hand down to gently squeeze Jensen's. Jensen's heart thumped in his chest and Jared bumped shoulders with him and whispered “You been a good boy Jensen?” Jensen whispered back “Oh yeah.”   
  
Jared bit his lip, bisecting a quiet, speculative smile that warmed Jensen right through. “Then you probably deserve a Christmas surprise?” And then he pressed his lips to Jensen's ear and told Jensen what it was going to be. Jensen felt The Voice reverberate through him, thrilling him, lighting him up and no kid in the room was more excited than he was for Christmas to start.  
  
This Christmas was gonna be good. Yeah, it was gonna be a very Merry Christmas after all. Who knew?  
  
The end.  
  
Well, except for [this time-stamp](http://bornof-sorrow.livejournal.com/78324.html).


	5. A Little With Certainty

**Title:** A Little With Certainty  
 **Author:**  [](http://bornof-sorrow.livejournal.com/profile)[ **bornof_sorrow**](http://bornof-sorrow.livejournal.com/)  
 **Pairing** : Jared/Jensen  
 **Rating** : NC17  
 **Warnings:** you probably need to read the[ preceding story](http://bornof-sorrow.livejournal.com/76806.html); possessiveness and stomping off to make coffee? Does that need warnings?  
 **Word count** : 2750  
 **Disclaimer** : if only the J's were available for teaching, tutorials and whizzy research - what a wonderful world that would be.  
 **Summary** : Once bitten, twice shy - was Dr Ackles right to give Professor Padalecki another shot?

Thank you to the wonderful [](http://akadougal.livejournal.com/profile)[ **akadougal**](http://akadougal.livejournal.com/) for diligent beta; any remaining errors or lameness are mine alone.

November 2012

“What's that?”

“What's what?” Jensen looked over his shoulder at Jared who was lying on his couch reading.

“That noise. Annoying.” Jared lowered his book and looked at Jensen with mild expectation.

“That's just my phone; Mike's calling.”

After a moment, Jensen became aware of the silence. He looked up. Jared was watching him over the top of his book.

Jensen chewed the end of his pen and glanced back at his work, but the silence gained an expectant edge so he went on:   
  
“He thinks it's funny. Y'know, for when he wants to talk about work. It's annoying so I notice it. Otherwise...” Jensen shrugged and went back to his grading from the safety of the armchair in the corner.

“He does that a lot?”

Jared was sitting up now, the book still in his hands but apparently forgotten, all his attention leaning forward towards Jensen. Jensen stifled a sigh. He really wanted to get these papers done with.

“Not really, no. Maybe. Possibly. You know Mike.” Jensen watched Jared take that in until Jared leaned back and started reading again.

Jensen went on grading.

A few minutes later, just when Jensen was back absorbed in what he was doing, Jared spoke.

“He likes you, y'know.”

“I know.”

“No, I mean _likes_  likes you.”

“I know.”

There was silence for approximately thirty seconds. Jensen could feel a smile curving his lips, but he kept his head down.

“You do? Oh. Okay. Cool.” Jared shifted about on the couch.

Jensen counted under his breath and it took Jared exactly fifteen seconds to ask: “Do you like him?”

Jensen couldn't help himself. He started to laugh at Jared. ”Really Jared? _Really_? Are you a fifteen year old girl and I didn't notice, because if so, that is worrying on so many levels, I can't even begin to tell you?  Especially after what I did to you in the bathroom this morning.”

Jared sat up and his cheeks flushed. “Yeah, yeah, okay. Jeez, you made your point. You can stop laughing now.” He threw a cushion at Jensen's head. Jensen ducked and swatted the cushion away with his arm. It fell with a flat plop onto the rug.

“Now, now, violence is bad, Professor, tsk tsk.”

Jared drew his legs onto the couch and dropped his knees, hand resting on his thigh. He could have made a sign that said “Look at my big dick” but Jensen got the message anyway.

Jensen held his hand up as if warding off an attack. “Jared, please, before you kill yourself being all alpha and cool – which, by the way, you blew totally when you said “ _Likes_ , likes”, spit it out. What's the problem with Mike all of a sudden?”

“There's no problem.” Jared tried to look nonchalant but failed to pull it off. 

Jensen snorted.

“You spend a lot of time with him. Online, obviously.” Jared tapped the side of his hand on the arm of the couch.

“So do you.”

“Not that much. He told me about you, you know? Back when we had all that trouble.” Tap tap tap.

Jensen raised an eyebrow. “Back when you plagiarized my work, you mean?”

“God, I really hate it when you use that word. I thought we'd come to an agreement about that, Doctor?” The tapping redoubled in speed and intensity.

“Oh, we have, I just like to remind you, from time to time, Professor, that I'm not one of your adoring students and realize you are flawed like the rest of us. Stop trying to kill my couch. Okay. I'll bite. What did he tell you?”

“That you were beautiful. In fact I think the exact quote was 'dude is seriously hot. It's hard to concentrate on what he says when all you can think about is fucking him senseless.'

“Oh, be still my beating heart.” Jensen laughed. “C'mon Jared. Mike's not here. What's the problem?”

Jared was watching Jensen closely now. It was the face Jensen privately referred to as _intense scrutiny #1._

“He seems to be calling you a lot lately. More than usual, I mean.”

“And...” Jensen was having too much fun to let Jared off the hook. Jared threw in some eye narrowing with the intense scrutiny.

“Aw, screw you Ackles. Glad to see I amuse you.”  Before Jensen could say anything Jared stomped off into the kitchen. After a moment Jensen could hear him slamming cupboards and rattling crockery.

“Mine's black, no sugar. I'm sweet enough already.” Jensen called through, laughter making his voice sing-song. He could hear Jared muttering under his breath.

After a few minutes Jared came in and bashed down a mug of coffee on the stool that Jensen used as a side table. Jensen looked up at him.

“Look it bugs me, okay? Every time I turn around, Mike's there, messages, emails, calls. It's intrusive!”

The look of outrage on Jared's face was so earnest that Jensen could feel his face twitching again. “But he's always done that. Hasn't bothered you 'til now.”

Jared ran his fingers through his hair, one hand on his hip. He looked at Jensen's face and anger clouded his eyes for a minute. “Yeah, it has. It's always bugged me, but now it's pissing me off. You're not...” He waved his hands, exasperated, and slumped back on to the couch.

“I'm not what?”

“Forget it.”

“No way, Princess. What's with the hissy fit? Interested minds demand to know.”

Jared rubbed his nose with his palm and looked at Jensen. “Rosenbaum's so competitive. He knows about us. He knows I don't like it. He's doing it to wind me up.”

Jensen put aside his papers and picked up his coffee. ”So Mr Pot, Mr Kettle is competitive and is winding you up for shit and giggles because...what? He wants me for himself? Our transatlantic love can go undeclared no longer? He will die if he can't have me? He wants to play with your toys? What?”

Jared rolled his eyes.

Jensen waited and sipped his drink. Eventually Jared said “Well, when you put it like that it sounds stupid. But he bugs me so much. I just...aaaggh. Forget it.”

Jared ran his hands through his hair. For once it didn't fall back into place and he looked nonplussed. And kind of adorable. Jensen drank in the sight for a minute. It wasn't often Jared was at any kind of disadvantage whatsoever. Unless he was naked and squirming under Jensen’s hand, (which they both loved, so that probably didn’t count).

Jensen put his coffee down, got up from his chair and went over to the couch. Jared slid his arms around Jensen's waist and laid his head against Jensen's chest. Jensen ran his fingers through Jared's silky hair. “Jared. We've had this conversation. You are not the center of the universe. People can actually do things that have nothing at all to do with you. We talked about the only child thing right?”

Jared snorted in disgust and glared up at Jensen, just in time to see the grin he tried to hide. Jared’s attempt at narrow-eyed seriousness made Jensen’s smirk trip into laughter again, so Jared gripped his hips and tossed him on to the couch, tickling between his ribs where Jensen hated it. Now Jared’s laugh bubbled low and sexy  when Jensen squirmed to get away and eventually Jared had Jensen pinned underneath him, wrists caught in one hand while he tickled ruthlessly along his side and up under his arm.

“Okay, okay: Uncle, uncle, uncle. Stop. I give up.” Jensen smiled up into Jared's grin. “Yeah, you got me, you win. You're the biggest, most clever, whatever, whatever person in the Universe. Ever. Happy now?”

“You forgot best looking.” Jared nuzzled into the warm smooth skin of Jensen's neck.

“No, because that's definitely me. Will you settle for best body? I'll give you that.”

Jared pretended to consider that for a moment while he shifted his hips so their dicks lined up just right against each other. He rutted gently against Jensen and smiled big and wide when Jensen's breath hitched.

“Okay. I'll settle for that, but maybe you need to check this best body thing. Maybe do a real thorough inspection, just to be sure before you go making big statements and all.” As Jared spoke he unsnagged Jensen’s belt, popped the button on his jeans and pushed the soft denim apart. Jensen’s eyelids dropped and his mouth softened. For a moment Jared’s hands stilled and Jensen he could feel the weight of his stare against his skin. Then he sucked Jensen's bottom lip into his mouth and skimmed his tongue along it. Jensen hummed in agreement and started to pull Jared's sweatshirt over his head. When the sweatshirt was gone, Jensen pushed Jared away and sat up, admiring the smooth golden expanse of Jared's chest as Jared rocked back on his knees. Jensen cocked his head.

“Well, the pectorals are mighty fine, I'll concede.” Jensen traced his fingertips along Jared's collarbone before dropping his palm down to feel the strong pecs and the smattering of hair at the center. Then he pinched one flat nipple between his fingers, making it peak and harden. Jared sucked in a breath through his teeth but didn't say anything.

Jensen knelt up and Jared tilted his head to watch him as he dragged his palms along the heavy muscled joint of Jared's shoulders and dipped his fingers across his triceps, flexed and hard where Jared was bracing himself against the couch. Jared twisted and tried to catch Jensen's lips again but Jensen jerked back his head with a smile. “Shoulders are pretty good. Strong too, I'll bet. They look like they're the type that could pick a guy up easy, maybe hold him in place.”

Jared's eye darkened and Jensen winked lasciviously at him, having fun with it. Jared scrambled up, stripped off his jeans and boxers, straddled Jensen on the couch then tipped him backwards, moved over him and planted his arms either side of Jensen's head against the cushions.

Jensen did so love a man who knew what he wanted.

“Anything else worth commenting on, or do I win the prize now?” Jared’s words were low, enticing, as he scraped his teeth along the shell of Jensen's ear, warm breath sending heat and chills along his spine. Jensen felt his dick thicken and his belly twist with anticipation.

“Mmm, let's see...”

Jensen ran one hand slowly up Jared's thigh then to his hip, enjoying every moment that Jared squirmed and waited for him to get to the good stuff. He skimmed his finger around to his ass, dipping lightly, quickly, into the crease. Jared closed his eyes then opened them wide and blazing into Jensen's. Holding the stare he slid his hands firmly around Jensen’s wrists. Jensen looked along their bodies.

He could see Jared’s chest and shoulders braced, every muscle outlined and taut; he could see his own rib cage rising with each excited breath and coming closer to touching Jared’s smooth skin and small hard nipples with each inhale, and he could see the velvet hardness of Jared’s cock jutting between them. He could feel his own cock pointing up, catching against Jared’s ass. Jared tilted forward and pressed his cock against Jensen’s belly.

Jensen swallowed hard. “Abs look decent, you probably work out right?”

It was meant to be playful but even Jensen could hear the roughness in his voice, the want loading down the words and there it was, the thrilling white heat between them, the connection he felt from the first, the current that was always there whatever they did together.

Jared smiled, dirty and sexy and all kinds of knowing. “Oh yeah, all the time. Best thing for a great body...?”

God. That Voice. Jensen felt stifled in his own skin. He tried to moisten his lips to answer, knowing what the dart of tongue across his lower lip did to Jared.

“What?” Jensen pushed his hips up, catching into Jared’s crease and rubbing upwards, teasingly, watching the throb of pleasure on Jared’s face.

Jared dipped his head to Jensen's ear. “Lots and lots of sex...”

“You've tested this hypothesis?” Jensen curled his hands uselessly in Jared’s grip, feeling that strength and stretching against the thrilling shudder of lust that shot across his body at the thought of enjoying it.

“Oh yes” the words slipped into Jensen’s mouth as Jared dipped his head, pressed his cock into Jensen’s belly and kissed him, tongue twining with his. Jensen shifted his hips to ride the crease of Jared’s ass and Jared groaned into his mouth. They panted and twisted against each other, the pressure and pleasure building in sparks of fire as each hard length caught against angles of not-tight-enough friction, until Jared sat up.

Jensen left his hands where they were and watched as Jared scrabbled between the cushions for the lube they’d used yesterday when Jared had first got in from Cambridge. Jared smiled triumphantly as he snagged it but wasted no time lifting his hips to bring Jensen’s cock between them. He poured the liquid into his palm and lined them both up together. Jensen slid his hands at last down the ridges of rib and muscle above him and wondered how one man could be so beautiful.

Jared gripped the two of them against each other and kissed to the side of Jensen’s mouth as his eyelids shuttered down with the perfection of the first stroking pull of his hand.  Jensen could smell _man_ and _sex_ in the warm bloom of heat from all that skin. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply feeling the swell of his lungs against his ribs.

Then it was sensation and gasping and begging until Jensen was using Jared’s shoulders to jerk himself harder into Jared’s tight grip and he could feel everything, every reaction mirrored in the body pressing against him and their cocks thrusting together, grappling for friction and pressure until it all came undone in the hot pulse of come between them. Jensen felt dizzy with the force of his release and he gasped, pushing Jared off him so he could fill his lungs with air.

Jared twisted to stay on a sliver of couch and said “Holy fuck.”

Jensen laughed. “Amen to that.”  He grabbed someone’s t-shirt to swab the come from his chest but Jared pushed his hand away and rubbed it into his skin. They both watched his hands as he stroked over Jensen’s sticky belly.

“You know that’s kinda gross, right?”

Jared glanced away from his hand to meet Jensen’s eyes.

“Yep.” He stretched the word out, long and drawling but didn’t stop. He went back to watching his hand smear come into Jensen’s skin.

“But..?” Jensen prompted.

“I like it.”

Jensen tilted his head to get a better look at Jared’s face.

“Man, if you think you are marking me like some kind of dog or something to prove something to Mike who’s thousands of miles away then you can just…

Jensen trailed off. He could see the laugh shaking Jared’s shoulders but Jared was doing a better job than he had at hiding his amusement.

“You...you…” Jensen grasped for a word strong enough to convey his disgust at about the same time he saw the funny side too. So he tossed Jared off the couch to wipe the grin off his face. 

Jared hit the hard floor with a satisfactory whump. And then they were both laughing and Jensen made the dumb snorting noise that came out when the laughing was real and deep from the belly. It felt good.

Jared stuck his hand up from the floor, reaching for Jensen’s and enveloping it in his sticky one. “Ew. Gross.”

“Shut up. You love it.” Jared propped himself up and kissed Jensen gently on the mouth.

Jensen knew he was smiling like a kid at the carnival.

“Yeah.” 

The end.


End file.
